The Muggleborn Slytherin
by bcsbookworm
Summary: Aria Bourne is one of Hogwarts' newest students and doesn't intend to do anything more than to escape her family's poverty, even if the odds are stacked against her. Being a Slytherin is one thing. A Muggleborn another. But being both? Aria will need her wit and new friends if she's ever going to succeed.
1. You're a Witch

**I own absolutely nothing except the OC character(s) that appear in this story. This story will deviate from canon, but not too much.**

 **WARNINGS: There will be mentions of child abuse/neglect throughout the story, but nothing overly graphic. If at any time you think I've been outrageously graphic then let me know and I'll take your concerns into consideration.**

Aria Bourne eyed the school uniform with distaste. Her dad, Kenneth, appeared pleased with his effort to make the uniform less ugly than it was, but there was only so much a person could do to a second hand uniform that was already two sizes too big.

"Do I have to?" Aria finally asked. Her dad deflated, his arms lowering, the uniform dragging on the floor.

"Yes. St. Brigid's requires the uniform unless you're doing your A-Levels. Then you can dress as you please while adhering to a dress code."

"Then I'll skip the rest of school and start my A-Levels now."

Kenneth held out the offending garment. Aria took it.

"I know it's not much," he said. "But if all goes well I'll be able to get you at least a new skirt or something before school starts. 'sides, you're going to grow into it anyway."

"It still smells like moth balls."

"Beggars can't be choosers."

Aria scowled at the hand-me-down. All the kids would laugh at her, like they always did. Aria Bourne, born on the wrong side of the river, the youngest of the Spinner's End brats. There would be at least six others from her side of town at St. Brigid's and they were all boys and troublemakers. Just the knowledge she came from Spinner's End seemed to set teachers one edge and with her ugly hand-me-down uniform she was sure to not have any friends again.

"Aria!" her dad shouted.

With a startled yelp as her hand burned, Aria dropped the smoking garment. A small flame appeared in the middle of the fabric and Kenneth hurried to toss his glass of water over it.

"Are you hurt?" Kenneth demanded, kneeling in front of Aria.

"I'm sorry!" she cried. "I didn't mean to ruin it. I don't like it but I'd never have ruined it."

"It's okay, it's okay," her dad soothed. "I can fix it. What about your hand?" He grasped the hand she'd been holding the uniform with, tsked at the redness, and ushered her into the kitchen to stick her hand under the cold water of the tap. Aria hissed as the water first touched her, but then relaxed as it began to numb the pain.

"Keep it there, let me see if I can find some burn cream." Kenneth began rooting around the kitchen, eventually heading for the stairs when a knock sounded from the front door.

"Stay where you are!" he called to Aria. She heard him open the door and cry out with surprise.

"Severus!"

Aria's head whipped around to stare out of the kitchen to the front hallway where she could just make out the shadows of her dad and their neighbor, Severus Snape. A dour man with a hooked nose, he was rarely around except for the summers and occasional school holiday as he was a teacher at a boarding school in Scotland. Very hush-hush. The rumor around Spinner's End was that it was a school for special children hand selected by the government to become the next wave of politicians and world rulers.

Well, that was _her_ theory and no one she hung out with disputed it.

"Go into the sitting room," she heard her dad say. "I'll get Aria. Do you want tea?"

"No thank you," the deep voice of Severus Snape replied. Kenneth reappeared in the kitchen and grabbed a hand towel, wetting it with the cold water, wrapping it around Aria's hand. Together they went into the sitting room where their neighbor was studying the photos on the mantle.

"Now, what's this visit about?" Kenneth asked. "You never like showing yourself unless you have to."

"Indeed." Snape spun around, his shiny black boots silent against the floor. "I've come to offer Aria a place at the school I teach at."

Her mouth dropped open. She was being invited to attend the school that would make her a world ruler?

Snape reached into his jacket pocket and held a parchment envelope out to Aria. Her name was written on the front in emerald green ink in the most stunning calligraphy she'd ever seen.

 _Aria Bourne_

 _2nd Bedroom_

 _24 Spinner's End, Cokesworth, England_

Curious way to address the letter. There wasn't even a stamp or a postcode.

"Isn't this the school you and that girl attended when you were little?" Kenneth asked. "I remember you two being as thick as thieves once."

"Once," Snape replied. "And yes. It is the same school. Go on, Miss Bourne. Open."

Aria managed to open the envelope, finally ditching the wet cloth in her quest to see the contents. She unfolded all the sheets of parchment and read the letterhead.

"Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry?" she demanded. "Is this a joke, Mr. Snape?"

"Do I appear the joking kind?" Snape asked. She glared at him before glancing over the rest of the acceptance letter. In it there were details to what the other sheets of parchment were, along with a few very important dates and rules such as no brooms of first years, only familiars on the approved list were allowed at Hogwarts unless one had special permission from the Board of Governors, and that all the school supplies could be found in Diagon Alley in London.

"I don't understand," Kenneth finally said.

"It's simple," Snape replied. "Aria's a witch. And I'm a wizard. Really, Kenneth, all those times I made strange things happen at school. All the times Aria must have done strange things."

"I just set my school uniform on fire by scowling at it," Aria whispered. "I didn't like it and was upset that I'd be teased."

"What else have you done? Especially when you're highly emotional?"

Aria frowned. What to choose from!

"There was the time I made bread loaf float for a few seconds when I really wanted it because I was hungry," she said.

"And the time your plushie danced to you when you were very small," Kenneth murmured. "Your mother always said you were special."

"I think most of the kids at school would say I was possessed," Aria disagreed.

"That's your accidental magic," Snape explained. "At Hogwarts you'd be trained in how to keep your magic in check during these highly emotional times. At the same time, you'd be taught how to use magic in everyday life and the opportunities magic gives you in life."

Aria handed the acceptance letter to her dad while looking over the school supplies list.

"It's all very expensive sounding," she finally said.

"Indeed," Kenneth said. "As much as . . . it'd be great for Aria to go to a place to learn about her gift, I don't see how I'm going to afford it. I can barely pay the school dues she'll have this year at public school."

"There are very well maintained scholarships," Snape assured them. "As a professor at Hogwarts I can attest to the Board that you're in need of scholarship and how much you'll need. I can see Aria will be in need of a full ride and a spending stipend. That means that for first year she'll get it without question, but to maintain this particular scholarship, she'll have to maintain good grades, have a good attendance and behavior record, so on and so forth."

"She can do that," Kenneth declared. "Aria, what say you?"

"I want to see Mr. Snape do magic," Aria stated. "Before I make any decisions." Snape smirked and reached into his pocket again, this time, withdrawing a glass vial that most certainly couldn't have fit in the pocket.

"At Hogwarts you'll learn the delicate art of potions," he told her. "I'm a Potions Master. That means I can legally sell any potions I make as long as they aren't poisonous or regulated by the Ministry of Magic. You'll have me in potions for at least five years. This is a burn salve. I always carry various potions on me as one never knows when you'll need them." He took her hurting, burned hand, and tipped some of the salve onto her skin. It was thick, like a lotion, and once rubbed in, took mere seconds to dissolve into her skin. Immediately the pain lessened and the burn disappeared.

"Wicked!" Aria cried.

"Indeed. Thankfully it wasn't too serious of a burn. Second and third degree burns require a stronger salve."

"Dad, can I go to Hogwarts?" Aria asked. "If Mr. Snape can get me that scholarship?"

"If he can get you the scholarship then yes," Kenneth replied, handing Aria back her letter. "You can go." Aria grinned and spun around to face her neighbor.

"I'll see what I can do," Snape promised. "I'll return on Saturday with the answer and, hopefully, your school supply stipend. Then I'll take you shopping."

Then he disappeared with a _crack_ straight out of the sitting room.

"That's so cool!" Aria cried. "I want to learn to do that! Dad, when do you think I'll learn to do that?" Her dad stared at the spot Snape had been standing in for another few seconds before steering her away from the sitting room.

"Hopefully not until I'm not around to see it," he answered. "I didn't like the sound of that crack."


	2. Diagon Alley

Saturday came soon enough. Aria saw her dad off early to work and he wished her luck on her excursion to London with Snape before slipping her a twenty pound note.

"Dad!" she cried.

"Take it," he said. "Just in case. It'll be enough for a train to Teeter-on-Hill then the bus. You know. In case you get separated."

At eight o'clock Aria marched the few yards down the sidewalk to Snape's door, knocking. The man answered, ushering her into his dingy front entryway. The first thing Aria noticed was that her neighbor was wearing black robes over his usual black clothing, robes that appeared to have an unending supply of buttons on the front and sleeves.

"What are you wearing?" Aria asked.

"A robe," Snape replied. "The wizarding world will appear very different and very archaic compared to the world you live in. This is partly due to the fact that we remain predominately separate from the Muggle world. That is, the non-magical world. Another is that many modern inventions like electricity don't work well with magic." He brought her into the sitting room where a small fire was crackling in the fireplace.

"I'm about to teach you how to use the Floo," Snape said. "It's used as much as Muggles use the telephone. It's a way of communicating through speech and a way to travel. As this is your first time we'll go together. Hopefully you're a fast learner and will be able to Floo yourself back here at the end of the day."

He motioned her to grab hold of one arm while he reached into a pot on top of the mantel. He tossed it into the flames, instantly making them green. With a shout of "Diagon Alley!" he stepped into the fire, pulling Aria with him.

Immediately Aria clutched tighter to the man as they went whooshing downwards, then sideways, then suddenly up and out. She stumbled as her feet met solid ground and she started to cough as soot founds its way into her nostrils. A solid hand slapped her back several times until her airways were clear.

"Not bad for your first time," Snape muttered. "At least you didn't fall over in a faint like some other weaklings I've had to show around." He waved his wand over her, muttering a word which took away all the soot from her clothes.

She could get use to magic.

"This is the Leaky Cauldron," Snape continued, leading her through the front room of a darkly lit pub. He nodded to the cheery barkeeper who was polishing glasses.

"Got you on Muggleborn duty eh, Professor?" the barkeeper called. Snape ignored the call.

"Muggleborn?" Aria questioned.

"As I said, those who have no magic are called Muggles," Snape said as he pulled her through the backdoor into a small, dirty, filthy smelling courtyard. "As neither of your parents had magic you're Muggleborn. We also have half-bloods whose families are a mix of magic and Muggle, and the purebloods. Those who've never had a drop of Muggle blood in their line."

"Sounds complicated," Aria muttered. "What are you?"

"I am a man." Snape smirked as she scowled at him. "I'm half-blood. Though you shouldn't go about asking people their blood status. It's a bit of a touchy subject in wizarding circles." He tapped a series of bricks with his wand, causing the brick wall to open into an archway. A gasp escaped Aria even as she tried to stop it.

Before her stretched a long, crooked, cobblestone road just like she'd seen in the old city of York when her mum had taken her years ago. Except there were no cars, no evidence of modern technology. People hurried about dressed in pointy hats and flowing robes of all shapes and colors. On one side of the street she noticed shops like Slugger and Jig's Apothecary, Ditto's Second Hand, and a postal office filled with owls. On the other side of the street they passed shops like Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, a bookstore called Flourish and Blotts, another clothing store called Gladrags, and a pet shop willed with cats and owls and what appeared to be snakes and lynxes.

"Where are we going first?" Aria asked, patting her coat pocket to make sure she had her supply list.

"Gringotts," Snape replied. "I have to withdraw your spending stipend. The Board of Governors approved a first year full-ride scholarship and stipend for you. You'll receive information about it in the post along with guidelines on how to renew the scholarship and requirements that you must meet in order to even be considered for renewing."

"How much of a stipend do I get?"

"Fifty galleons now, fifty when you go on Christmas holidays so that you can replenish anything you've run low on."

"How much if fifty . . . gallons in pounds?"

" _Galleons_ you silly child. And I'm not sure what the exchange rate is. You may, of course, ask the goblins when we pick up the gold."

" _Goblins_? They're real?"

"Yes, along with a great many other creatures I'm sure you've only ever read about. Now, the goblins run the banking system in the wizarding world and they are very proud creatures so _don't_ offend them. Understand?"

"Yes, sir!"

Aria took the marble steps in front of Gringotts two at a time in order to keep up with her professor's long strides. She almost stepped on his billowing robe, earning a sharp look from him. She wondered if he was strict with his students.

If Snape hadn't warned her about goblins, Aria was certain she'd have screamed seeing them. But when they didn't mind her and went about their business, she couldn't help but swivel her head about in fascination. Everything about the bank was like out of a movie with the tellers and the scales and the _gold_! Real gold!

Snape stepped to one of the tellers who looked up from his ledger.

"Ah, Professor Snape," the goblin said, showing a row of sharp teeth as he smiled. Aria's eyes widened. That goblin could eat her if he wanted to. "Always a pleasure. Personal business or Hogwarts business?"

"Hogwarts, Redfist. Aria Bourne, please make the acquaintance of Redfist. He is one of the few goblins with anything to do with the Hogwarts scholarship accounts. He'd be one of the goblins to contact if you had any questions about your scholarship that can't wait. Understand?"

Aria nodded.

"If you are awarded the scholarship again," Snape continued, pulling out a sealed envelope from his robe's pocket, "you'd give the acceptance letter to him or to any of the other approved goblins." He handed the letter over and Redfist took it, read it, and disappeared with a curt, " _Wait here_."

Garbled works distracted Aria and she watched as two tellers conversed in what appeared to be gibberish. She tugged on Snape's robes.

"What are they saying?" she asked.

"They're speaking in Gobblygook, the goblin language," Snape replied. "I don't know it very well, but enough to know that if they are speaking Gobblygook that it's none of our business." He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Right," she muttered. She pulled out her supply list and her pencil. "Sir, can you help me begin a budget for today? You said I have fifty galleons to spend. Can you possibly give an estimate on what I'll spend on each?" She pressed the parchment against the teller cage. Snape peered over her shoulder.

"If you wish, I still have some of my old Hogwarts books," he said. "The texts haven't changed for the first three years of Hogwarts in Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, or Defense Against the Dark Arts, so mine will be perfectly suitable."

"Thanks! Did you write the answers in the margin?"

Snape cuffed her across the back of the head.

"What about the other courses?"

"Ditto's will have most of them. We'll shop there first and anything we don't find there we'll get new at Flourish and Blotts. The one book I can tell you that you'll need new is your astronomy book. Professor Sinistra just updated her curriculum to a book published at the end of the school year."

Redfist returned with a money bag and a receipt which Snape tucked into his pocket.

"Shall we go?" he asked.

"Yes. Thank you, Redfist." Aria grinned at the goblin before following her professor, jingling the money bag as she went. She missed the few wizards or witches who'd heard her give strange looks before returning to their business.

Out on the street they went straight to Ditto's Second Hand. It took Aria by surprise that the store's name wasn't just a name, but that the owner, a man by Ditto Humphrey, actually had a second hand. He told her that his hand had been burned off in a potions accident well before Professor Snape was a student, and it'd been replaced by a hand which was made of silver which was an excellent conductor of magic.

"But it's _connected_ to your wrist!" Aria cried, staring at the silver seamlessly blending into the skin at the wrist.

"But of course it is!" Ditto had cried and that was that.

A school trunk cost eight galleons, the used school robes and uniform bits were six galleons in total, and her few used text books cost four galleons. That left her with 32 galleons left in which to purchase her potions supplies, her wand, and two books that she hadn't found in the second hand shop.

As Ditto wrapped her things in brown paper Snape requested that he remove the crests on the school robes and uniform vests.

"You've yet to be sorted into your House," Snape replied as the blue and bronze badges disappeared. "It'll be where you live within Hogwarts for the next seven years."

"Hopefully," Aria replied. Snape tapped the packages. She squealed as the packages shrank until they fit in her neighbor's pocket.

"Magic's awesome!" she cried. "I'm gonna learn how to do everything!"

"Of course. Now do stop making a fool of yourself and march!" Snape turned her to the door and they went next door to Slug and Jigger's.

"Professor!" a man behind the counter cried. "What a surprise, you're orders aren't due until Monday."

"I'm Hogwarts shopping," Snape replied, motioning to Aria. "Aria Bourne, please meet Abram Jigger. His father is one of the original owners of this fine establishment."

"Hello," Aria said.

"Pleasant girl. First year, eh? Well you'll find everything you need over by the back wall. The shelves are labeled by year so you'll know exactly what you need. No excuses for being unprepared for Professor Snape's class."

Aria maneuvered around the shelves filled with pickled things and chopped things until she found the back corner and the shelves labeled: FIRST YEAR. On one shelf she found the standard size 2 pewter cauldron, 3 galleons. Then she found three different brands of scales and weights. She grabbed the cheapest, which only cost 2 galleons, even though the mahogany set looked beautiful. Then she scooted over to the potions ingredients. Slug and Jigger's had created box sets of ingredients for each year with three different options per year. The first option had everything that was on the list down to the exact weight. The second and third options were the same, but each ingredient had a little more, so instead of 5 grams of milkweed there were ten or fifteen.

Again she took the cheapest option which cost 3 galleons. Satisfied with what she found she headed back to the front of the store where Snape and Jigger appeared to be dissecting an article out of a magazine called _Potion News_.

"I don't understand how the editor would even agree to print rubbish like this," Jigger was saying. "Everyone knows that if you harvest marigold under the noon sun during the summer months that the potency will last much longer without a preserving spell. To say that winter marigold holds up just as much is to go against basic chemistry."

"You will need to write a rebuttal," Snape answered. " _Potion News_ greatly admires your franchise."

"My father taught me everything he knew, he did. And Horace still does a lot of ingredient collecting so that keeps me on my toes."

"I'm finished," Aria announced. She set her purchases on the counter. Snape eyed them all.

"I'd have thought the mahogany set was more to your taste," Snape said as Jigger rung her up.

"It did," Aria replied. "But it was four galleons! I still need to get my wand, that one book, and all my parchment and quills."

The bell over the door rung at that moment. Two people entered, a man and a boy, and they weren't in long before the boy cried "Uncle Sev!" and launched himself at Snape. Snape caught the boy, peering hurriedly behind the man who'd been with the boy, before pulling the child into a hug.

"Hello to you too, Draco," Snape said. "But do try and keep your enthusiasm down."

"It's all right, it's only Mr. Jigger," this Draco responded. He smiled brightly at the apothecary who waved before finishing wrapping Aria's ingredients and scales, slipping them into her cauldron so she could carry it like a basket. If she hadn't felt how light the cauldron actually was, she'd have made Snape shrink them all and put them in his pocket.

"Good afternoon," Draco said. "My name is Draco Malfoy." He gave her a dramatic bow.

"Aria Bourne," Aria replied. Should she curtsy? Was this a wizarding custom like it was in _Pride and Prejudice_? Not knowing what else to do she bobbed down in the quickest curtsy she could muster. Her mum had once taught her how to do it and would make her do it whenever they went to see her parents. But Aria hadn't seen her grandparents since her mum's death and, therefore, hadn't had any occasion to curtsy.

"I don't think I know that last name," Draco stated.

"I wouldn't expect you to, seeing as we only just met," Aria replied. She spotted Snape and the man that had to be Draco's father share a look, like they were trying to say something without words and she didn't know their eye language.

"Draco, don't be rude," Snape murmured.

"Oh! Aria, please meet my father, Lucius Malfoy." This man, taller and older but with the same shock of white blonde hair as Draco, bowed with less dramatics.

"Mr. Malfoy," Aria said with another, stronger curtsy. Mr. Malfoy hummed while thumping the floor with his walking cane.

"We'd best be off," Snape declared. "We still need to get Miss Bourne's wand and a few odds and ends from Flourish and Blotts."

"We should dine, later," Mr. Malfoy said to Snape.

"Send me an owl."

Snape grabbed Aria's shoulder, steering her from the apothecary.

"Is the wizarding world very formal?" Aria asked. "Am I gonna half to learn to talk the Queen's English?"

"Certainly not." Snape grimaced for a moment. "I'll endeavor to explain when we return to Spinner's End, but the middle of the street is not a place for a conversation such as the one you're hoping to get."

They walked into a shop called Ollivander's, coming in just as a white haired man that reminded Aria a little of Albert Einstein's pictures, put a long box on top of a large pile of long boxes and disappeared further into the shop. In front of the counter, looking very dejected, was a boy an inch or so shorter than Aria dressed in the largest set of shirt and pants Aria had ever seen, though he certainly didn't come close to filling out the clothes. The boy's hair was inky black and stuck up on all ends as if he hadn't combed it, and she could see that he wore glasses.

He glanced over his shoulder at them, but it was so quick Aria almost didn't notice he'd looked.

"We'll wait over here," Snape instructed Aria, ushering her to some seats. Aria plopped down, glad to be off her feet. Her sneakers, while still together, didn't have very good cushioning anymore, and she found her feet hurt if she stood too long on them. But the shoes still fit so she didn't toss them.

And she certainly had no reason to complain, as the boy's shoes were much rattier than hers. She could see the front of the right sneaker curling away from the bottom, though not from being too small, just too old.

The old man that had to be Ollivander returned with an armful of more boxes. Each time the boy picked up a wand Ollivander would snatch it away and place the wand back in its box and the box on the growing pile of discarded wands.

"Don't look so glum, lad," Ollivander cried, disappearing back amongst the shelves. "I'll have you go through every single wand if I have to!"

"Then you'd best let these people go first," the boy called, his shoulders slumping.

"What is it taking so long to buy a wand?" Aria asked.

"Wands are . . . partly sentient," Snape explained. "Or at least that's the theory. No one quite understands why some combinations of items and wood conduct magic better than others, but there you have it. Therefore, because the wand it partly sentient, you have to find the wand that best suits your magical core. The wand chooses the wizards."

"Right you are, Severus Snape!" Ollivander cried. "Poplar, twelve inches, dragon heartstring. A diverse wand, willing to work with all sorts of magic; best for portions of spellcrafting."

"And it's served me well," Snape replied. "It took me sixteen wands before this chose me." Aria and the boy glanced at the pile of boxes, well over sixteen.

"I and my ancestors discovered that the more wands a wizard of witch tries, the more diverse or strong their magical core is," Ollivander said, switching the wand in the boy's hand with another. "If you received your Hogwarts letter there is a wand for you. That is truth."

Finally the boy found a wand, the air in the shop growing pleasantly warm, a breeze floated through the room, ruffling Aria's hair and clothes. Sparks, gold and green, shot out from the wand's tip. The boy laughed.

"Curious," Ollivander muttered, waving his own wand to send all the other wands back to their places.

"What's curious?" the boy asked.

"That's an eleven inch holly wand made with the tail feather of a phoenix. Phoenix feathers are only ever given freely, you cannot take them without permission or they won't work. Anyway, that phoenix who gave my grandfather that feather also gave one other feather. And only one." Aria leaned forward. This was an excellent story.

"This other wand, your wand's brother, is the same one that gave you that scar." Ollivander pointed to the boy's forehead. Beside her, Aria noticed Snape's body tense like a violin string. She glanced at her neighbor, only to see something flash across his eyes that she couldn't identify. She moved her gaze back to the boy who was now staring at his wand like it too would attack him.

"Seven galleons, Mr. Potter," Ollivander cried. The boy dug into his oversized pants for a money pouch, counted out the seven galleons and handed them over to Ollivander.

"And now you young lady," Ollivander cried. "What's your name?"

"Aria Bourne," Aria replied. She held her and out to the boy. "We'll be first years together I suspect." The boy shook her head, grinning shyly at her.

"Harry," he said, blinking bright emerald eyes from behind broke glasses. "Harry Potter."

"This is Professor Snape," Aria said, motioning to Snape who now had a scowl printed on his face. "He's going to be our potions master and brought me shopping today."

"Pleasure to meet you," Harry said, holding out his hand. Snape stared at it for several seconds before deigning to shake it. Aria frowned at her dower neighbor. Really, the man went from accommodating to cranky in seconds.

"A giant named Hagrid brought me," Harry told Aria.

"Really? A giant?" Aria grinned, even as a measuring tape zoomed around her, measuring her arms and her head and her legs. "That's wicked."

"Indeed. And where exactly is Mr. Hagrid?" Snape questioned.

"Dunno," Harry replied. "He told me to go get my wand because he needed to purchase something. He said he'd come back and get me back to Surrey." Harry looked like he'd rather be anywhere but Surrey.

"Well you can wait with us," Aria decided. Unlike at primary school, she was going to make friends even if it killed her. She had had enough of being teased and bullied from her clothes to her strangeness, and by the looks of the boy in front of her, he was in the same boat.

"Can you tell us about Hogwarts?" Harry asked Snape as Aria took the first wand Ollivander held out. It jumped out of her hand and rolled off the counter. "Hagrid said my parent went there, but I didn't even know I was a wizard until he showed up."

"Your guardians never spoke of it?" Snape demanded, his voice filled with disbelieving.

"No, sir," Harry murmured, cowed by the professor's tone. "They only told me that my parents were killed in a car accident because they were drunks."

" _What_?" Ollivander and Snape shouted. Aria and Harry jumped. The wand in Aria's hand also leapt from her hand, hitting Ollivander's head.

"Definitely not that one," the wandmaker muttered.

"James and Lily Potter were many things, but they certainly weren't drunks," Snape declared. He eyed Harry, as if not sure what to make of the boy. Harry fidgeted under his scrutiny.

"Try this wand," Ollivander invited Aria, pulling her attention back to him. "Eleven inches, ash, unicorn tale hair. That particular unicorn was the lead female of the herd. Good for mind magics and protection spells."

Aria grabbed the wand, afraid that it'd jump out of her hand again. This time, though, a shot of warmth flew up her arm and into her chest, sending tickling fizzies throughout her body. Silver sparks erupted from the wand's tip.

"Excellent!" Ollivander cried. Harry clapped his hands, making Aria's face grow warm. "Six galleons."

Aria grimaced at the price but counted out the coins, sliding them over to Ollivander before picking her wand up again.

"You'll eventually want to get a wand holster," Snape said to Aria. "It'll be easier to carry them around."

"How much do those cost?" Aria asked.

"A bit more than you have left."

"That's what I thought. Very well. Onto Flourish and Blotts?" She opened the door to Ollivander's and looked up and down the alley, though no one seemed remotely like a giant. Harry too cast his gaze left and right, his shoulders drooping.

"What else do you have to shop for, Mr. Potter?" Snape demanded.

"I need a school trunk," Harry answered. "Then Hagrid's meant to take me home."

Snape growled, glaring angrily down the street. Then he stuck his head back into the shop.

"Ollivander!" he cried. "If Hagrid comes looking for Mr. Potter, tell him to meet me at the Leaky Cauldron in an hour's time."

He slammed the door to the wand shop and took off down the alley, Aria and Harry running to keep up with him.

 **I should mention that some of the characters will be OC but stay with me because it'll all make sense later on.**


	3. The Hogwarts Express

**I own nothing except Aria and all my student loans.**

They'd left Harry at the Leaky Cauldron with Hagrid. Eventually. Snape had been white faced and pinch-lipped by that time as Hagrid appeared after the hour had passed and Snape had contemplated taking Harry home for Hagrid. Aria had contemplated taking Harry home too, but to her home, as she'd never had a friend over before and thought it'd be fun.

Then Hagrid had appeared carrying the most beautiful snowy owl as a birthday present for Harry. The boy had blushed and stuttered through shocked thanks, as if he'd never gotten a present before, and Aria had cooed over the bird who was also a girl. The bird had puffed her chest and preened, earning a sneer from Snape, which had immediately earned him a glare from the bird.

"Hagrid must really like you," Aria whispered to Harry as the two tried to ignore Snape tearing into Hagrid about leaving his charge to fend for himself. "I mean . . . Snape likes me well enough to take me shopping today, but I don't ever see him getting me a present."

"I think it's just Hagrid's way," Harry replied. When Snape had finished snapping, he grabbed Aria by the arm, told Harry he'd see him on September 1, and Flooed them home.

In Snape's house Snape unshrunk all of Aria's belongings and shoved her from his home even as she tried to make him tell her about blood purity like he said he would.

"Later," he snapped, and slammed the door. With an angry huff she stomped to her house, dragging her lighter-than-it-should-be trunk filled with her belongings behind her. She found her dad making dinner, filling the house with enticing smells.

"Dad!" Aria called. "I'm home!" Kenneth peered into the entryway from the kitchen.

"Put your stuff in the sitting room and we can eat in there," he said.

Aria did as instructed before crossing to the windows and peering out towards Snape's house. She could see the barest glimmer of light through the closed curtains. She too closed the curtains in the sitting room. As it's said in one of the papers that had come with her acceptance letter, the wizarding world had to be kept secret. Something about an international law.

Kenneth came into the sitting room with two plates of steaming fish and chips that most likely been in their freezer for several months.

"All right," Kenneth sighed, getting comfortable on the couch. "Show me what you got."

* * *

August 31st came with loud banging on the front door. Aria, lounging on the couch with her potions book (her neighbor probably expected more from her in his subject just because), rolled off the comfortable seat and flung open the door. She almost slammed it shut again, only for Robert Jacobs to stick his foot in the doorway, keeping the door open.

"Word is that you're not attending St. Brigid's this year," he said.

"It's not any of your business," Aria retorted.

"Where're you going?" another boy, Samuel Tweed, demanded.

"Again, it's not any of your business."

"But it is. We were gonna show you the ropes of St. Brigid's. We Spinner's End brats gotta stick together," the third boy, Tommy Bunker, answered. "And you're only eleven and a girl. Some of 'em boys up at St. Brigid's like to try and get up your skirts."

"Oh like you've never tried to get up a girl's skirt," Aria cried.

"Well not a first year," Robert shot back. "We've got morals you know."

"As much as I appreciate your concern, and I duly note it, I wouldn't have needed it," Aria replied. "I know where to kick to get the most pain." The three boys grimaced.

"So where're you goin'?" Tommy asked.

Aria took a moment to recall the cover-story that had been presented to her family with her acceptance letter.

"A special school in Scotland," Aria said. "Very posh. Very hush-hush. I got a full-ride scholarship with a spending stipend for school supplies and things. They only accept those with excellent school records. I applied because I thought, the worst they can do is not accept me."

The boys looked impressed, but tried to not show it.

"And Mr. Snape's a professor there," Aria continued. "He's the Head of Science he's the only who helped me get my school shopping done. He's the one who recommended me to the school. That's how I even got the application in the first place."

"You're going to go to school with the creep?" Samuel cried. "Good luck to you."

"How're you getting up the school?" Robert asked.

"Dad's putting me on the first train to London," Aria answered. "I'll get to King's Cross in time to get the correct train."

"We could drive you," Robert suggested.

"None of you have your license."

"Don't mean we can't drive."

"My dad would never agree to _that_."

"What if I got my sis to drive us?"

"Doesn't Melinda have to work?"

"She's got tomorrow off _and_ if we three boys pull our resources, we could even treat her to lunch in London and she'd go for that in a heartbeat." Robert looked pleased at his planning. Aria raised her eyebrows at him, though she supposed her dad would be more apt to agree to this plan with Melinda driving than Robert. Melinda was eighteen and had an excellent apprenticeship on Cokesworth with one of the local high-end boutiques. Unlike her little brother, Robert, Melinda didn't have a reputation.

"I'll ask when Dad gets home," Aria stated and shoved the door closed, almost catching Robert's foot in the doorway.

Strangely enough, Kenneth agreed to Robert's plan. Driving would be cheaper than the train ticket, so he gave half of what he'd have spent on the train ticket to Melinda to pay for gas and to add to the "Lunch Fund." Melinda looked delighted and regaled anyone who'd listen where exactly she wanted to eat and window shop.

By the time Aria was loading her trunk into the boot of Melinda's old car, it seemed like all of Spinner's End had heard about her wonderful opportunity to improve herself and everyone was coming out to wish her good luck. Several mothers and grandmas pushed containers of food at her. One container smelt of banana bread, and two others were various treats, and one container had sandwiches and crisps for lunch.

Aria had not felt like she'd belonged in such a long time.

"You must be proud," people said to Kenneth. "We heard stories she was having a rough time in primary."

"Bullies the other kids are," Kenneth answered. "Those from the other side of town."

"Is what Tommy told me true? Is Severus really a professor at this school?"

"Yes. Remember how he and that girl . . . what was her name? Red hair, went off to a school every year?" Kenneth asked. "This school is his alma mater."

"Surprised he doesn't ditch this place then," someone else muttered.

Aria kissed her dad on the cheek and climbed into the front seat with Melinda. The boys took the back seat and with half the neighborhood standing by, drove off.

* * *

The two and a half hour drive to London was fun. Melinda put in mixed CD's and she and Aria sang at the top of their lungs to American artists while the boys tried to ignore them or outsing them in their horrible voices. Aria broke into one of the containers of cookies and shared some with the older kids.

In London, Melinda expertly maneuvered through the overwhelming crowd of cars and pedestrians before finding a parking spot behind King's Cross station. Samuel went and got a trolley for Aria's things before Robert and Tommy lugged the school trunk onto it.

"That should do it," Robert declared. Everyone stood around, looking at each other, the boys looking a bit embarrassed. Melinda hugged Aria.

"Who'd have thought you of all people would get such an opportunity," Melinda cried. "I'll be sure to encourage the boys to brag about you at school."

"Yeah," Tommy agreed. "An' you best remember us when you've married rich."

"I'll remember you if only you're honest," Aria answered. "Don't think we don't hear about who gets accused of stealing things at St. Brigid's." The boys tried to not look guilty. Melinda glared at her brother.

"You been stealing?" she demanded.

"Just little stuff that's cheap to replace!" Robert cried. "It's not my fault them rich kids are territorial." Melinda cuffed him across the head before grinning at Aria.

"Have a good school year," Melinda said. Aria nodded and went to begin pushing her trolley towards the station, when Tommy yanked her and her belongings back before she could be run over by a speeding SUV which screeched to a halt several parking spaces down. A familiar boy with a mop of black hair stumbled out of the vehicle, a man larger than any walrus picture Aria had ever seen pulled himself from the driver's seat and opened the car's boot, yanking out a school trunk and a caged snowy owl, dumping both in the middle of the parking lot with a laugh. The man climbed back into the car, the vehicle lowering almost to the ground, and drove away with squealing tires.

"What an asshole," Samuel muttered. "Just dumping a kid like that."

"Harry!" Aria called, waving at him. She pushed her trolley over to Harry who was doing his best to sooth a ruffled owl.

"Aria!" Harry's face split with a huge grin.

"Here, put your things on my trolley," Aria suggested. Robert and Tommy lifted Harry's trunk, setting it in front of Aria's.

"That's an interesting pet," Samuel said, peering at the bird.

"Her name's Hedwig," Harry answered. "And she's brilliant."

"Won't disagree with you there," Samuel muttered. "Anyway, it's quarter of so if you two know each other than that means you've a train to catch and we," he pointed to him and his friends, "have a lovely young madam to take to lunch." They all grinned at Melinda who rolled her eyes, marching back to the car.

Harry put Hedwig's cage on top of Aria's trunk so that it could lean against the handle bars, and insisted on pushing the trolley.

"Do you know how to get onto the platform?" Aria asked. "Platform 9 3/4?"

"No," Harry answered. "I was hoping that there would be some sort of station master waiting nearby to help." They stopped just on the edge of platforms eight and nine, looking around for any sign of anyone who might be a wizard or a witch.

"Maybe it's like Diagon Alley," Aria suggested. "Hidden from Muggles."

"Muggles?" Aria and Harry turned at the new voice. Six pairs of blue eyes stared at Aria and Harry, all six pairs belonging to a red-haired human freckled beyond compare. Except for one, the woman of the group who was dressed in a knitted poncho, a tweed skirt, with hair frizzing in every direction. Beside her was a little girl with smooth hair cut short just above her shoulders while on her other side, each pushing their own trolley, were four boys. Two of the boys were twins.

"Are you looking for the platform, dearies?" the woman asked, smiling at them. "First year at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, ma'am," Aria and Harry answered.

"It's Ron's first year too," the woman said, gesturing to the youngest boy. "How about I send my older boys through first, that way you can see how it's done. It's very simple really. You just run straight at the wall between Platforms Nine and Ten."

Aria and Harry glanced at the brick wall that the woman indicated.

The eldest red haired boy, curly haired with horn-rimmed glasses, pushed his trolley forward, looking very smug that he got to show off to strangers how to get onto Platform 9 3/4. He looked around, making sure no Muggles were watching him, then dashed for the barrier. Aria gasped, hands flying to her mouth as she watched him disappear into the wall.

"That was a bit dramatic," the woman muttered. "But Percy doesn't get to show off for people besides his siblings. If you don't want to run into the wall, just sort of lean against the barrier and walk backwards. If you have magic, you'll be able to fall through."

She had the twins go next, who showed Aria and Harry how to do it the less running way. Ron then went, followed by the red haired woman and the daughter, promising to meet them on the other side. Aria kept staring at the barrier for several seconds.

"It's almost eleven," Harry murmured. "If we don't at least _try_ , we'll never get to Hogwarts." Together they gripped the handle bars of the trolley and dashed for the barrier. Instead of crashing the trolley disappeared through the wall, like it was a blanket, and Aria and Harry followed, coming through after a few seconds of darkness, to another platform. Steam hit their faces while loud voices filed their ears. Harry tensed beside her, shying away from the shouting and shrieks of glee.

"There you two are!" the red headed woman cried. "Come on, or you'll miss the train. Fred, George! Help these two get their things on the train." The twins, now luggage-less, grabbed Aria and Harry's things, bringing them to an empty compartment on the stream train. Aria stood at the doorway just on the platform, looking up and down the train, feeling like she'd stepped into some sort of time machine.

"Thank you," she heard Harry say to the twins as they came off. A gust of wind swept up Harry's bangs and Aria noted the twin gasp of surprise from Fred and George. Harry, aware of their gazes, ducked onto the train.

"Tell your mum thanks!" Aria cried, hurrying after Harry. She closed to the door to their compartment while Harry opened the window. She sat across from him and they watched the red headed family gather for final good-byes.

"That was Harry Potter, Mum!" one of the twins cried. "We saw the scar."

"Can I go say hi to him?" the little red haired girl asked.

"No, Ginny," the woman cried. "The poor boy, and his friend. Here without anyone. What were their guardians thinking? You four will treat him like any other child at Hogwarts, you hear?" She kissed the boys all on the cheek, and they cried out in horror at the display of affection.

Jealousy, hot and quick, filled Aria. She'd gotten a wonderful farewell at home, just as heartfelt as the display before her, but her mother hadn't been there. And she wished she had been. For the first time in years the ache of missing her mother felt stronger than anything else, making Aria feel sick. She turned away from the scene. She couldn't watch it anymore.

Harry slammed the window shut.

"What did the woman mean?" Aria asked. "Why were the boys so excited that you were you?"

"My parents were killed by a Dark Lord," Harry explained. "And he tried to kill me. Somehow I survived with nothing more than this scar." He lifted his bangs, showing off a pink lightening shaped scar on his forehead. "According to Hagrid, no one ever survived an encounter with this Dark Lord named Voldemort. With my survival I somehow vanquished him. So I'm famous."

"You life sounds exciting," Aria said. Harry shrugged.

"I think I'd rather skip being famous," he told her, "and have my parents back. If you know what I mean."

"I think so. I'd do anything to have my mum back. Though, she didn't die as tragically as yours."

"All meaningless deaths are tragedies," Harry murmured. "If it was tragic to you, then it's tragic."

The train gave a final whistle. The yells of good-byes rose an octave as the train started moving. Aria pulled out her charms textbook, ignoring the family moments going out without. Over the top of the book she noted Harry doing the same thing.

Yes, they would get on fine.

After some time the compartment door opened and one of the red heads, the one named Ron, poked his head in.

"Can I stay here?" he asked. "The other compartments are full, and the twins have a friend with a tarantula and I'm scared of spiders."

"Sure," Aria said. Ron lugged his trunk in and managed to get it up beside Harry's. He settled beside Harry who jumped in surprise when a rat poked its head out of Ron's obviously hand-me-down coat.

What a trio they made, Aria thought. All rags and no riches.

"That a rat?" she asked. Ron pulled out the brown lump of a thing, settling it on his lap.

"Scabbers," he said. "Percy gave me to him as he got an owl as a reward for making Prefect." The rat closed its eyes and began to snooze.

"What an invigorating animal," Aria said.

"Yeah, he's useless," Ron agreed. "But he's mine, I don't have to share him with anyone." He patted Scabber's head. "I'm Ron Weasley by the way. We met on the platform."

"Aria Bourne."

"Harry Potter."

"So my brothers were right. It's nice to meet you both." Aria peered over the top of her book to see Ron's gaze flicker several times to Harry's forehead, but was obviously too polite to ask about seeing Harry's scar that somehow made him famous. Eventually Harry just lifted his bangs, letting Ron see his forehead. Ron's face turned bright red.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I just grew up hearing stories about you and all. There's even a book series about you."

"Can people do that?" Aria asked. "Write books about people without their permission?" Ron shrugged. Aria turned back to her book.

She'd just reached the third chapter of the textbook when there was another knock on the compartment door and it slid open, revealing a kind old lady with a trolley full of sweets. Aria's mouth watered seeing some of the food, but knowing that she only had two galleons left from her shopping trip and that she had goodies in her trunk, she turned her head away.

"Anything off the trolley, dearies?" the old lady asked. Harry peered at the trolley, though Ron pulled a corn beef sandwich from his pocket.

"I'm good, thanks," Aria said. "What's the time?"

"Almost one dear."

Lunch it was. Aria stood on the seat to reach into her trunk, pulling out the container of cookies and sandwiches. Harry pulled out several silver coins that Snape had told Aria were Sickles, and paid for some chocolates which he settled back down with. Aria passed around her cookies and shared her sandwiches as it was obvious Ron didn't care for corn beef.

A girl appeared in the doorway soon after. She held her nose in the air like many girls at Aria's primary school. Aria almost laughed at how bushy the girl's hair was and at how the girl's front two teeth appeared too big when she spoke.

"Has anyone seen a toad?" the girl demanded. "A boy named Neville lost his."

"No toads here," Aria replied, reaching for her book. The girl's eyes lit up when she saw the book.

"You're reading ahead?" she cried. "I'm glad I'm not the only one. I didn't know I was a witch until I got my letter and I feel so very behind, even though Professor McGonagall assured me I was starting on the same level as all first years."

"I'm sure that's true to some extent," Ron said. "But you can bet some families will have already taught their children the simpler spells when they got their wands."

The girl plopped beside Aria. She offered the girl a cookie.

"No thank you," the girl said. "My parents would kill me if I had something with that much sugar in it."

"Health nuts?" Aria asked.

" _Dentists_."

"Rotten luck." The girl grinned, holding out her hand.

"Hermione Granger."

"Aria Bourne. This is Harry Potter and Ron Weasley."

"Good to meet you," Ron said around a mouthful of sandwich. Hermione hardly looked impressed at his manners. Harry, at least, held out a hand to shake Hermione's.

"Your name's in _A Modern History_ ," Hermione told Harry. "Did you know that."

"Somehow it's not surprising," Harry replied. "Though, like you, I didn't know I was a wizard until my letter came."

"Same with me," Aria mentioned. They looked at Ron.

"Everyone in my family's got magic," Ron said. "We're pureblood."

"Pureblood?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah. There's Pureblood, Halfblood, and Muggleborns. You and Aria are Muggleborns. I'm a Pureblood because everyone in my family as far back as forever has been magical. Halfbloods have a mix heritage or their bloodline's been infused with Muggleborns or even Muggles."

"So if a Muggleborn married you, your children would be halfblood?" Hermione asked.

"Yep. And then my side of the Weasley family would no longer be pureblood. It's weird, though. My brothers, Bill and Charlie, work outside of the UK, and they say that the definition of Pureblood is different in most countries."

"How?" Harry asked.

"Well, in Romania, where Charlie works, a Pureblood is any person who has both magical parents and grandparents. In Egypt, where Bill is right now, a Pureblood is anyone with at least five generations of magical parents and grandparents on either side so Purebloods are a bit harder to find."

"And here in the UK?"

"It's a family that's never been touched with Muggle blood. I think, Harry, if I remember what my parents said, your mother was a Muggleborn, and your dad was a pureblood, so you're a halfblood, making the Potter line no longer Pureblood."

"That's . . . complicated," Aria decided.

"To some people it's important," Ron told her. "There are some Pureblood families who look down on Muggleborns and Halfbloods for being just that. It's really sad, I think."

"But not your family?" Hermione questioned skeptical.

"Dad's the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office," Ron answered. "In many pureblood circles the Weasley family are considered Blood Traitors."

"You know a lot," Aria commented. Ron stuffed the rest of the sandwich Aria had given him in his mouth.

"It's what happens when people don't think you're listening," he answered.

The compartment door slid open and a familiar white-blonde boy appeared. Behind him stood two burly dark haired boys who, to Aria, looked like they had more brawns than brains.

"Word on the train is that Harry Potter's in this compartment," Draco Malfoy declared, snobbery oozing from every pore of his body, a sharp contrast from the boy Aria had met in Slug and Jigger's.

"Who wants to know?" Harry asked.

"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. This is Crabbe and Goyle." Draco peered around the carriage, eyes briefly stopping on Aria and she noted the recognition that sped across his eyes. He moved his gaze to Ron, eyes flickering up and down the red head.

"Let me guess," Draco sneered. "Red hair and hand-me-down clothes? You must be a Weasley." Ron's face turned red all the way to the tips of his ears. At first Aria thought he was upset, but then he ducked his head and she realized it was more embarrassment than anything, though anger was certainly present if his clenched fists were anything to go by.

"What's wrong with hand-me-downs?" Aria demanded. Draco and his two goons moved their eyes to her. She folded her arms.

"And you are?" Draco asked.

"Aria Bourne. We met in Diagon Alley. Professor Snape was taking me shopping.

"Right. Muggleborn." The little boy sneered the word like it was a disease or curse.

"Got a problem with that?" Aria questioned. "Like you do with hand-me-down clothes? Bit pathetic really."

"Are you calling me pathetic?"

"You said it. Not me."

Draco turned his back on her, focusing on Harry.

"You'll find, Potter, that some wizarding families are better than others," he said. "I can help you with that." He held out his hand. Harry played with his overlong shirt sleeves for a moment before peering up at Draco.

"I think I can figure out who my friends are on my own, thanks."

Surprise crossed the faces of Crabbe and Goyle. Shock filled Draco's. A smirk played at Ron's lips while Aria and Hermione shared amused glances. Draco struggled to find an answer, his mouth opening and closing several times before he pushed through Crabbe and Goyle, stomping down the corridor. The two oversized goons almost got stuck together in the compartment doorway hurrying to catch up with him.


	4. Slytherin!

An announcement came through the train a half hour before the express arrived informing the students of their eminent arrival and to please change into their uniforms if they haven't already done so. Hermione left the carriage to find her trunk while Ron and Harry grabbed their uniforms to change in the boy's bathroom while Aria locked the compartment door and pulled down the blinds to change.

As the train pulled into a station labeled: HOGSMEADE another announcement informed the students to leave their luggage on the train as it would be collected. Staying close to Harry and Ron, Aria exited the train to see Hagrid calling for all the first years to gather around him.

"He's huge!" Hermione cried as she appeared at Aria's side. "Is he a giant?"

"I think Professor Snape said he was a half-giant," Aria answered as they followed Hagrid down a dirt path leading to a lake.

"I read in a book I got while shopping that giants live in colonies on the continent," Hermione told Aria. "The book said they were savages."

"Well clearly they can't be all savages because Hagrid seemed nice when I met him. A bit daft, but harmless and nice."

"Four to a boat!" Hagrid called. Aria and Hermione scrambled to keep up with Harry and Ron so that all four of them could get into the same boat. Several boats down Aria noticed Draco and his two goons climb into a boat with a girl with an upturned nose that made her look like a pug. Hagrid climbed into one boat and when all the boats were full, they automatically moved forward, gliding across the dark lake with only the waning moon and stars as light.

Aria peered skyward. In Cokesworth there were too many lights to see the stars and she rarely went out into the country. She'd gone camping once with her mum, but that was when she was little and didn't remember much besides having fun.

Overhead the stars twinkled, twirling together into a labyrinth of jewels against the night sky. Peace settled over Aria, stirring within her strength and courage, stealing away any nervousness she'd had about attending Hogwarts.

The boats turned around an outcrop of rocks. Aria was pulled from her contemplation of the stars at the amazing gasps of her fellow first years. Looking forward she gasped too. Hogwarts stood above the lake, its turrets towering above the lake, reaching, stretching for the sky. Warm lights of yellow and orange twinkled from the hundreds of windows, making the school's ambiance warm and welcoming.

"It's magical," Aria whispered.

"Well of course it is," Ron answered. "It's Hogwarts after all."

Too soon for Aria's liking the boats docked and the first years climbed out, filing behind Hagrid as he led them up stone steps into the massive castle. They moved through empty corridors lit by torches, carved in ways Aria had only seen in history books and on school trips to medieval castles.

In a large entry way between two sets of large ornate doors Hagrid told them to wait before slipping through one of the sets of doors. The soft murmuring of voices came to the first years before dying when the doors closed.

"What happens now?" Aria whispered to her friends.

"Now we get sorted into our houses," Ron whispered back. "I don't know how it's done, Fred and George said that we have to battle a mountain troll."

"But we don't have any magic," Aria pointed out, stomach clenching. Wasn't the acceptance letter enough proof that she belonged in a magical school?

"Fred and George don't always tell the truth," Ron told them.

"What are houses?" Harry asked.

"Like dormitories," Hermione told them. "I read about them in _Hogwarts, A History_. They're named after the Four Founders, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, and Salazaar Slytherin. We stay in these houses all seven years."

"Houses are very important," Ron added. "Lots of families stay in the same house. All my brothers are in Gryffindor, the House of the Brave. My parents were Gryffindors, as were most of my relatives on either side of the family."

The doors Hagrid had disappeared through opened again, this time, a severe looking lady appeared dressed in a smart emerald green dress and black robes, a witches hat sitting properly on her head. She carried a scroll in one hand and cast a stern, yet welcoming gaze over the group.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," the lady said, a Scottish lilt in her voice. "I'm Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor. In just a moment I will bring you through the Great Hall to be Sorted. There are four houses: Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Slytherin. These houses will be your family for the next seven years. Together you will win points and loose points and at the end of the year, one house will be awarded the House Cup. Now I'd like you al to line up two by two."

The children jostled each other to do as the woman asked. Aria and Hermione touched shoulders as they paired up behind Ron and Harry. Behind them were a boy and auburn haired girl. Hermione greeted them as Neville and Susan and told Aria she'd shared a carriage on the train with them before find Aria, Harry, and Ron.

"Did you find your toad, Neville?" Hermione asked.

"Yes." Neville opened his pocket and showed off an ugly toad. "He'd hopped into Susan's trunk."

The doors to the Great Hall opened. Professor McGonagall led them forward at a brisk pace. Aria felt the eyes of dozens of older students on her and the others, and she tried to ignore them by looking around. If it hadn't been for Hermione, she'd have stopped short at seeing the ceiling. It was filled with inky blackness and stars like the night sky outside.

"It's only enchanted," Hermione whispered. "I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_."

Aria needed to read that book. The school must have a library, or maybe she could borrow it from Hermione.

"We'll still be friends?" Hermione asked as they approached the head platform where a long table filled with adult wizards and witches sat. "Only . . . I've never had a friend before. All the kids teased me at primary."

Aria glanced at the girl in her obviously new tailor robes and uniform with parents as dentists. Did this girl, obviously from the right side of the tracks, really want to be friends with her? It was obvious standing next to Hermione that Aria's uniform and robes were second-hand even though they were clean and well pressed.

Well she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Of course," Aria assured her. "Even if we get put into separate houses. We can still study together and sit together when we have classes together." Hermione grinned, showing off the two overly large front teeth she had.

On a stool sat a ratty old witches hat. Professor McGonagall stepped onto the platform and gave the hat a little tap with her scroll. What Aria perceived to be a rip near the brim opened and the hat began to sing.

" _You may not think me pretty,_

 _You may not think me bright._

 _But put me on your head,_

 _And I'll sort you out right quick._

 _You may be placed in Gryffindor_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart;_

 _Or Slytherin, it's counter,_

 _Where the cunning make their friends._

 _Ravenclaw is where those_

 _daring intellects live, and as_

 _For Hufflepuff, they kindly take_

 _the rest. So put me on your head_

 _Don't be shy you see, for I may_

 _be thousand's years old, but I'm_

 _Still a Thinking Cap!"_

Aria clapped along with the others, though truth be told, she wasn't looking forward to putting that hat on. Did they wash it? She remembered when she was eight and had gotten a hat in the charity bin at school for the winter and _obviously_ someone hadn't washed it because she came down with lice.

Not an experience she wanted to go through again.

Professor McGonagall unrolled the scroll.

"When I call your name," she said, "I want you to come up and put the hat on your head." The first years nodded their understanding. Around them, upper years leaned forward in anticipation.

"Abbott, Hannah!" A cute brunette moved from behind Aria and Hermione to the stool, picked up the hat, sat on the stool, and eagerly plopped it on her head. After a short moment the Hat shouted,

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Hufflepuff table on the far end of the hall erupted in loud cheers and clapping while Hannah hopped off the stool, placed the hat back on top, and made her way smiling to the welcoming table.

"Bones, Susan!"

The auburn haired girl beside Neville made her way up to the stool. After another moment the Hat cried,

"HUFFLEPUFF!" Again, the Hufflepuff table began cheering, though a large group also began chanting "Two in a row! Two in a row!"

"Bourne, Aria!"

Aria glanced at Hermione who gave her a shoulder nudge in encouragement. Aria started to the platform, earning encouraging smiles from both Harry and Ron. She picked up the hat, perched on the stool, and just saw Draco Malfoy's smug little face before she put the hat on. The urge to punch Draco Malfoy was strong.

"A bit aggressive, don't you think?" The Hat asked. Aria stiffened, then, relaxed.

 _Of course_ , she replied in her head. _You can read minds._

"Something like that. Old Magic. Powerful Magic. Now, hush, while I try to place you. Muggleborns are always the most interesting to sort because they don't have any preconceived notions about much of the wizarding world or have family honor to try an uphold and convince me is of utmost importance." The Hat began to hum tunelessly.

"Lots of ambition to improve and prove yourself," the Hat commented. "You've had a bit of a struggle in life haven't you? Well, I can't say Hogwarts will be any easier, but with how you've handled everything in life so far, the only place to put you is SLYTHERIN!"

Aria took off the hat. The Slytherin table, on the opposite far end of the Great Hall, stood to their feet and applauded the sorting with a lot more pomp and a lot less ruckus than the Hufflepuff table. Aria put the hat down and made her way to the first empty spot on the end of the table to finish watching the sorting.

As "Brown, Lavender" came up Aria searched the Head Table for Mr. Snape, or Professor Snape now that she was at school with him. She found him sitting two away from the center of the table where an ancient man with a white beard watched the preceding from a throne like chair. That must be the headmaster. Aria turned her attention to Professor Snape who caught her gaze. He gave her a nod before going back to the sorting.

Lavender Brown was the first sorted into Gryffindor. Aria almost covered her ears, the cheers from the Gryffindor table were so loud. Lavender flounced to her spot at the Gryffindor table, a wide grin spreading across her face and she tossed golden curls over her shoulder.

Vincent Crabbe, one of the burly goons of Draco's was the first boy sorted into Slytherin and he sat opposite, scowling at her which she ignored.

The first of her friends to be sorted was Hermione. Aria perked up hearing the girl's name and watched as the girl made her way to the stool, muttering to herself. Aria almost laughed. Hermione was definitively the high-strung type.

"GRYFFINDOR!" Aria clapped for her bushy haired friend as she joined the scarlet and gold table.

A Daphne Greengrass was the next to be sorted and she came to Slytherin, smiling shyly at Aria and sitting next to her. To Aria's chagrin, Gregory Goyle was also sorted into Slytherin and he sat beside Crabbe. It was to Aria's delight to note that Daphne didn't appear overly enthusiastic about Goyle or Crabbe's sorting either.

Too soon for her liking, Draco Malfoy was called up. The Hat had barely been put on his head when it shouted SLYTHERIN and he was ensconced between Crabbe and Goyle.

"Greengrass," he greeted.

"Malfoy," the girl replied with a sniff. "Fancy meeting you here." She turned her gaze to the sorting and Draco leveled a glare at Aria. Aria raised an eyebrow at him.

"Potter, Harry."

All noise within the Great Hall ceased. An unnerving silence was broken only by the soft pops of torchlight and the steady breathing of the students and professors. Harry slowly made his way to the stool, aware of the deadly silence that the hall had taken. Aria bit her lip, her heart suddenly hammering against her chest for her friend. The Hat sat for several long minutes on Harry's head.

"Hatstall?" Aria heard a second year whisper.

"Everyone knows he's going to go to Gryffindor," someone else whispered.

"SLYTHERIN!"

At first no one from the Slytherin table stood and clapped like they had done for the other first years. The older years all appeared too shocked to do anything. Harry took off the hat and started towards the Slytherin table, though it was plain to see in his eyes that he was hurt yet unsurprised by the lack of applause.

"We got Potter." All Slytherin swiveled their heads to look at the person who'd spoken, a prefect male marred with the worst acne Aria had even see on a person and teeth needing braces. "We got Potter!"

"We got Potter" made it way up and down the upper years until there was a sudden explosion of noise and undignified cheers as the Slytherins leapt to their feet, applauding and welcoming their newest first year. Harry's eyes widened as the sudden welcoming, and he froze halfway to the table. Aria rushed to his side and yanked him to sit with her on her other side.

Several second years reached over and patted Harry's back, welcoming him to the "Noble House of Slytherin."

All the other tables stared at them with jaws hanging open. The professors too seemed equally as startled. Professor McGonagall had a hand over her heart, though the surprise could have been from the loud cheers the Slytherins had given. Professor Snape, Aria noted, was staring at Harry with the most calculating expression while the Headmaster appeared lost in thought.

Professor McGonagall, gaining her wits, shot off sparks with her wand which boomed throughout the Great Hall. The Slytherins immediately sat as if they hadn't exploded in loud cheers, and she returned to the sorting.

"I'm so glad you're here," Aria whispered to Harry.

"Thanks," Harry whispered back. "The hat was going between Gryffindor and Slytherin. He said my parents were Gryffindors, but that I'd make a powerful, great wizard in Slytherin. I told him I didn't care about being great and powerful, and that either house was fine as I had friends there. Then he chose Slytherin."

"Well we'd still have been friends either way," Aria stated.

The sorting continued and, slowly, the group of first years grew smaller. Children went to their respective tables. The Slytherins clapped politely for all their new students. Theodore Nott came to Slytherin as did Pansy Parkinson, the pug nosed girl. She shoved Crabbe down the bench to sit beside Draco.

"Weasley, Ronald!" Aria and Harry craned to see their friend make his way to the stood. He was second to last in being sorted. Over at the Gryffindor table Aria could see the three older red haired brothers preparing to cheer their brother's placement by standing to their feet.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Weasley brothers thudded to their seats.

Again, like with Harry, an unnerving silence fell over the hall. Ron pulled off the hat and stared at it like it would bite him. Gulping, Ron put the hat down and, casting a confused glance over at his brothers, made his way to the Slytherin table. Daphne was kind enough to scoot over so Ron could sit between her and Aria.

Blaise Zabini, the last student, was also sorted into Slytherin, finishing the sorting. Professor McGonagall took the stool and hat out to an antechamber and returned, taking a seat between Professor Snape and the headmaster, who stood, his silvery blue robes sparkling in the torchlight.

"Welcome!" the man cried, his voice old like a grandfather's. "Welcome to Hogwarts. I'm Headmaster Dumbledore. Some important rules I feel that must be mentioned before we tuck into the scrumptious feast prepared for us. First, the Forbidden Forest that borders Hogwarts on the south and south-westerly side is just that; _forbidden._ It houses many creatures, not all of them friendly. Being caught within its boundaries is a sure way to earn yourself detention and loss of house points." He stared directly at the Gryffindor table and most of the students peered at the Weasley twins, but they weren't paying attention, instead, they were whispering furiously with their elder brother.

"Secondly, the list of banned items from Zonkos has increased," Headmaster Dumbledore continued. "You can get the complete list from our caretaker, Mr. Filch, at his office on the second floor."

Aria noticed a ragged looking man with a cat standing by the doors to the Great Hall. That must be Mr. Filch.

"And thirdly, the Third Floor corridor just off the Charms Hallway is strictly off limits this year, unless you want to die a most horrible and painful death." Aria's eyes widened. What sort of school was she attending?

Oh, that's right. _A magical school_.

 **Okay, before you execute me over Ron's sorting, just keep with the story. Everything will resolve itself and make sense in the end. Besides, I said this story was sort of going to keep with the canon. "Sort of" means that there are deviations.**


	5. First Day Start

**I don't own Harry Potter!**

When the food popped into existence, it took all of Aria's will power not to jump backwards and off the bench. Immediately the succulent smells of various meats and vegetables sautéed and seasoned to perfection filled her senses and she almost drooled over dishes. Never had she seen so much food except in pictures or in documentaries at school. Eagerly she put a little of everything on her plate. Beside her Ron, clearly in his element now that food was before him, had piled his plate high and was making headway into the chicken and mashed potatoes.

Beside her, however, Harry appeared at a lost. His hands, clenched tightly in his lap, shook. Aria only notice because she was sitting next to him.

"Try something," she murmured. Harry glanced at her, then the food platters, and finally placed some chicken, roasted potatoes, and mixed vegetables on his plate before reaching for the pitcher of water.

"I can't believe the Hat sorted you three into this house," Draco complained from across the table. "A Weasley, Potter, and Muggleborn in this noble house? Someone must have cursed the hat!"

"You're Muggleborn?" Pansy cried, looking Aria up and down like she was diseased.

"So I've been told," Aria replied. Several second years leaned away from her, whispering to their neighbors. Soon she noticed the older students at Slytherin peered down the table towards them, though some had already been doing so to get a look at Harry.

"Shut it, Pansy," Daphne snapped. "She's a Slytherin and that's all that matters."

"Are you a Muggle lover, Greengrass?" Draco demanded. Daphne sent him a scathing glare which made the blonde wilt a little.

"I'm a Slytherin like my parents before me," Daphne snapped. "And they certainly instilled within me the values of what makes this house great. Did your parents, Draco? Or your grandfather?" She turned back to her meal.

Dinner popped away, replaced with half a dozen different desserts. Aria immediately went for the pavlova with strawberries and blueberries, and scooped peach slices on her plate. Her mom had made the best pavlova in the world, but fresh fruit was expensive and there was no use wasting eggs on Aria's sad attempts to make the dessert.

When the dessert popped away two prefects, a boy and girl, came to the first years and introduced themselves as Tracey Paddington and Marcus Flint. Aria recognized Marcus as the boy who'd started the "We got Potter" chant.

The two prefects, who said they were fifth years, ordered the first years to follow them and together the group left the Great Hall ahead of the rest of Slytherin House. At first they followed the Hufflepuff first years and their prefects down a flight of stone stairs but the Hufflepuffs went down the first hallway they came to and the Slytherins continued on. The Slytherins continued until the stairs completely leveled out into a corridor. Following it, the group passed several off shoots before reaching the end and a portrait. The man in the painting stared coldly at them before speaking.

"Are these the new first years, Prefects?" the man asked. Aria and Harry shared looks of surprise. A talking _and_ moving portrait! Aria was liking the wizarding world better and better.

"These are, sir," Marcus replied. "First years, meet Salazaar Slytherin, one of the Founders of Hogwarts and the guardian of your dormitory. The password changes every two weeks. The password is Forever Deadly." The portrait swung open, allowing the group to file in.

The common room spread out from the portrait hole into a single room bigger than the entire downstairs of Aria's house, which wasn't too hard to do. A giant fire blazed in the fireplace, filling the whole room with comforting warmth against the chill that always seeped from stones. Tapestries hung from the wall and one painting sat over the top of the mantel. Area rugs of silver, black, or green dotted the floor which was covered with couches, chairs, and tables. One wall was covered with bookshelves and at another wall were two different staircases leading into the castle.

"Boy's rooms to the left, girls to the right," Tracey told them. "You're grouped by year so it won't be too hard to find the door labeled First Years. Now gather 'round the fire. Everyone else will be here soon and our Head of House will be here too to go over the House Rules."

"Who's our Head of House?" Aria asked.

"It's Professor Snape, the Potion's Master," Tracey answered. "He's a graduate of Slytherin." Aria, Harry, and Ron found seats on one of the couches. Daphne, Theo, and Blaise claimed the other couch. Draco marched up to Aria.

"Move yourself," he ordered.

"Dude, find your own seat," Aria answered.

"I don't have to take orders from the likes of—," Draco's voice turned into a shriek as Marcus Flint grabbed him by the collar and shoved him to a spot on the rug beneath the couches.

"Don't bully your housemates," Marcus snapped. "You're already going to be bullied for being a Slytherin, Malfoy. Might as well make nice with your housemates."

"But she's _Muggleborn_!"

"And the red head's a Weasley and the Boy-Who-Lived sits next to him and THEY'RE ALL IN SLYTHERIN!" Marcus shouted dramatically. He leveled a glare at Draco that made the eleven year old squirm. "Now hush, before I tell those three all the horrid nicknames I've heard your mother call you at dinners."

"You wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?"

The portrait hole opened and the rest of Slytherin House pushed in, gathering around the two couches, moving chairs and tables closer to the fire so that the whole house could be around the warmth and still have a seat. Some of the older students even took their seats on the rug with Malfoy and his two goons.

Professor Snape swept into the common room, slamming the portrait door behind him. With his robes billowing behind him, Aria got the picture of a vampire or a bat and almost laughed.

"Welcome to Slytherin," Snape said, his deep voice resounding off the walls of the room. "You've been selected, however strange your selection may seem," he glanced at Aria, Harry, and Ron, "for the most Noble of Houses. Now, it is true that our reputation is hardly encouraging and the other houses use that to their advantage. Therefore, the first rule of Slytherin is . . . ?"

"Unity!" Several upper years shouted.

"Unity." Snape nodded. "Whatever problems you have with your housemates stays in the dormitories. Once you step out of that portrait hole you're a unified force against the rest of Hogwarts. Do you understand?" The students nodded. Aria felt Harry tense beside her and she nudged him with her knee.

"As many of you are aware, there is a curfew here at Hogwarts," Snape continued. "By ten o'clock on weekdays you're meant to be in your common rooms. I have my own curfews for you. First years are to be in bed by ten o'clock; second to third years by ten-thirty; fourth and fifth years eleven o'clock, and NEWT students must be out of the common room, if not in bed, by quarter of midnight."

"We have a bed time?" Draco whined.

"Indeed, Mr. Malfoy," Snape snapped. "And you'd do well to adhere to the rules I set before you. I rarely, if ever, take points from Slytherins in public, but rest assured I will make up for it in the privacy of my office or this common room. Additional punishments on top of any detentions you receive may also be given. Would you care to find out, Mr. Malfoy, what I'm capable of?"

"No, sir."

"I thought not."

Aria smirked at Draco's putdown.

"It's almost ten," Snape continued. "First years, you'd best get to bed."

Aria mounted the stairs behind Pansy and Daphne, and they found their dormitory room just off to the left. Within were three twin beds with emerald green bed curtains. Aria ran a hand over the cloth, finding them thick and heavy, perfect for privacy and keeping in heat. At the foot of the bed closes to the window (it had to be enchanted they'd gone so far down), she found her trunk which was much battered compared to the monogrammed and polished trunks of her two roommates.

Flipped her trunk open she was pleased to find everything had stayed in its spot.

"I can't believe we have to share a room with you," Pansy sneered at Aria. "You're trunk looks like it's about to fall apart."

"Professor Snape said it had excellent charms on it, and that it'd last me all through Hogwarts," Aria replied.

"Professor Snape?" Pansy questioned.

"He's the one who took me shopping."

"I feel sorry for him." Pansy flounced into the bathroom. Aria followed with her toothbrush and discovered three sinks along a counter with a wall mirror just above the sinks. Through another door was the single toilet, through another, the shower and the largest tub Aria had ever seen. What were all those knobs meant to do?

She claimed the sink closes to the bedroom door and settled her things neatly to the side, then went back and changed into her flannel two piece pajama set that she'd gotten last Christmas. The shirt's buttons were stretching and the pants were a bit short, she'd have to get out her sewing kit and let out both the shirt and pants.

Daphne and Pansy had very elegant nightgowns. Pansy wore a pale pink while Daphne's was a navy blue.

"Why are you wearing boy pajamas?" Daphne asked.

"These? Nightgowns aren't worn all the time by girls," Aria replied. "Sometimes girls wear pants to be too."

"Muggles are weird," Pansy muttered, climbing into bed. "If I have to suffer through seven years with you then we need to settle on some ground rules. Daphne and I use the bathroom first. We walk ahead of you at all times. We won't help you with your homework and if we tell you to do ours, you do it."

"Why are you involving me?" Daphne demanded.

"Really, Daphne, you're pureblood. There's nothing neutral about being pureblood. You're better than Bourne, it's as simple as that." Daphne slammed her trunk shut.

"You're idiotic," Daphne told Pansy.

"And I'm certainly not doing anything that you just suggested," Aria snapped. "If you want us to make up a shower schedule go right ahead, but that also means you have to follow it. If you want the bathroom first, then you have to wake up the earliest. As for walking, I walk wherever Hogwarts allows me to walk. And as for your homework, I wouldn't ask you for help even if my life depended on it. And you'll never get to copy off my homework. If you want to fail out of Hogwarts for cheating or for not doing your work, that's your problem not mine."

She locked her trunk, climbed into bed, and closed the bed curtains with a flourish she'd only ever seen in movies. She drew her wand from where she'd tucked it in her sleeve and kept it close incase Pansy decided to try anything funny.

Tears pricked her eyes. Aria scrubbed her face with her clean smelling pillow. Bullies were everywhere, she knew that.

 _I guess I hoped I wouldn't be a target at Hogwarts_ , she thought. _Guess some things don't change_.

* * *

Morning came without much drama, much to Aria's happiness. She was the first up and got into the shower room first, locking the door in case Pansy had any ideas. Setting her towel and school uniform (which had somehow gained the Slytherin badge overnight) on a bench she knelt by the tub, ignoring the shower head for now, and turned on the first knob which was square. Hot water, judging by the steam, shot out of the spout, filling the room with the scent of moonbeams and twilight.

Moonbeams and twilight?

Aria shook her head at the ridiculous Yankee Candle scent she'd conjured, turned off the tap, and reached for the green handle. More hot water poured out, filling the room with the smells of Christmas, of holly berries and balsam fir. Laughing, Aria tried another tap, and this time, bubbles squirted out; large bubbles, small bubbles, _square_ bubbles!

When the tub was full Aria stripped, slipping into the water, finding it the perfect temperature. She could hang out in here all day.

But realizing her roommates would be waking soon and she'd spent a lot of time playing with the various tub knobs, she hurried to scrub herself clean and wash her hair. When she was done she pulled the tub's plug and watched as the water swooshed from the tub, leaving it clean and bubble free.

Coming out into the bedroom she found Daphne just rolling out of bed.

"Someone's been playing with the tub knobs," Daphne muttered, pattering by her with a yawn.

"It's brand new to me," Aria called as way of explanation. Daphne closed the bathroom door. Aria brushed her teeth and hair, pulling it back into a French braid before rummaging around in her trunk for her hair ribbons where she was pleased to discover a green one, which she tied at the center of the braid at the base of her neck.

Pleased with herself Aria now spread her school things on her bed. Which books to pack? When would they get their schedules? She slipped her notebooks, quills, ink, and a new pack of No.2 pencils into her bag. She'd been practicing with the quill and ink, and was sort of getting the hang of it, but wasn't sure if she'd manage to take all her class notes with the forgein instrument.

Deciding to see if she could find Tracy, the prefect, Aria slipped from the bedroom, checked the common room, then made her way up the stairs until she found the door labeled FIFTH YEARS. Heart pounding, because who really wanted an eleven year old knocking on their door, Aria took a deep breath and knocked.

Seconds later the door was thrown open by a black haired girl, hair half up in a ponytail, the rest falling past her shoulders in a river of curls that made Aria jealous.

"What do you want?" the girl asked.

"Um . . . is Tracey there?" Aria asked, wincing internally at how small her voice sounded. She cleared her throat and said with more confidence,

"I wanted to ask her when I'd get my class schedule so I'd know what to pack for the morning."

"She's in the shower," the girl answered, eyeing Aria. "You're the Muggleborn yeah?"

"Yeah."

The girl chuckled.

"You got balls, girl, coming up here. Most firsties are too damn scared of us big kids to even come near our rooms."

"Well I'd really like an answer to my question."

"Whatever. Timetables are passed out at breakfast. Breakfast starts in twenty minutes and lasts for an hour. Plenty of time to eat and come back here for your stuff the first day."

"Oh. Thank you . . . ?"

"Prudence. Prudence Attleberry." Prudence again looked Aria up and down. "Girl, you gotta do something about your robes. Everyone'll think you're as poor as a Weasley."

"Well maybe I am as poor as a Weasley."

"Smart mouth. Don't know where that'll get you." Prudence slammed the door. Aria scooted back down to her bedroom, slipped all her books but her astronomy book into her trunk, and went to the common room. Maybe Harry and Ron would appear soon and they could go to breakfast together.

Within five minutes the two boys in question appeared, greeting Aria enthusiastically. She let them know what Prudence had told her about their timetables and the boys put their bags back in their room before the three headed out of the common room and trekked up to the Great Hall.

"How was your first night?" Harry asked.

"Awful," Aria admitted. "Pansy's an arse. She told me that I couldn't use the bathroom before her, that she wasn't going to help me with my homework, and that I had to do hers."

"And what did you say?" Ron asked.

"I told her off. Daphne backed me up. What about you two?" They settled at one end of the Slytherin table. Several sixth and seventh years were already there, eating.

"Malfoy's going to be a handful," Ron muttered. "My dad and his don't get along. Neither do our grandfathers. Crabbe and Goyle go along with everything Malfoy says and Malfoy thinks he owns the world."

"Theo and Blaise seem all right, if a bit quiet," Harry added. "They weren't laughing along with Draco and his friends last night."

"You do realize we're oddities in a House rumored to be made up of all Dark Wizards," Ron pointed out.

"Well some of them are doing a good job at keeping that rumor alive," Aria retorted. "I wanted to punch Pansy in her puggy little nose."

As more people trudged into the Great Hall for breakfast, the other first years arrived. Draco chose seats several places down from Aria, Harry, and Ron, sneering in their direction. Aria went back to her astronomy book while spooning oatmeal and fruit into her mouth.

The tranquility of the Great Hall suddenly disappeared with the appearance of two red headed twins who, upon coming to the Great Hall, made a beeline for the Slytherin table.

"Ronnikins!" they cried, nudging Harry to the side in order to sit on either side of Ron. They pulled the plate of bacon and toast away from Ron, even as he protested the removal of his breakfast. "So, Slytherin huh? We sent a letter off to Mum and Dad last night, being the responsible brothers we are."

"You?" Ron cried, reaching for his food again.

"It's amazing, that you'd be the one—,"

"To break the family's tradition—,"

"It's all that chess playing, Gred—,"

"By golly, you're right, Forge!"

"What does my chess playing have to do with anything? Give me my breakfast!"

"Now, now, Ronnie, there's no need to be so hasty with your meals."

"Yeah, we just want to talk to you."

"As I was saying—,"

"It's the chess that's gotten you into Slytherin—,"

"Right. Because one has to be decently cunning—,"

"In order to play chess—,"

"And you're just too good—,"

"At the game to be placed anywhere else."

Ron decided that more force was needed and shoved his brothers off the bench, now able to reach for the breakfast plate and pull it back towards him. Aria stared at the grinning twins, knowing that it impolite to stare, especially with her mouth hanging open and oatmeal spoon halfway to her mouth, but they were too strange not to warrant such rudeness.

"You play chess?" Theo asked from his seat several places away. Ron nodded and his brothers gasped dramatically.

"Play chess?" one of the twins cried. "Is the sky blue?"

"Is Professor Snape the Potion's Master?"

"Are Fred and I twins?"

"YES!" the twins cried together. "Ron plays chess!"

"And he's bloody good at it," one of the twins added. "Old Alastair Moody is a friend of the family and he's the one who taught our dear brother how to play."

"Even our grandfather has a hard time beating Ronnie," the other twin added.

"Don't call me Ronnie!"

"Hush, child," the twins soothed, patting Ron on the head. "We're speaking with your new housemates."

"Enough, Fred! George!" the third red headed brother came up, glaring at the twins. Aria managed to tear her gaze away from the twins and to the eldest brother, noting the shiny prefect badge on his robe. "Leave Ron alone and come eat your breakfast."

"Whatever you say—,"

"All mighty Prefect Weasley!" The twins bowed to their brother and raced to the Gryffindor table. Ron banged his forehead against the table.

"Ron."

"Don't, Percy."

"I was just going to say that breaking family tradition isn't too bad of a thing. You were complaining that the twins would most likely have access to your bedroom if you were in Gryffindor."

Ron raised his head, a grin spreading across his face.

"Oh yeah. Now they don't!" he laughed. Percy patted his shoulder and walked over to where Marcus Flint was trying to eat breakfast. The two prefects held a tense, whispered conversation that involved lots of glaring on both of their parts, and then Percy went back to the Gryffindor table, cuffing his twin brothers across the back of their heads before taking his seat.

"Are your brothers always like that?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Ron answered, snagging more bacon. "The twins are somewhat harmless. They're pranksters. Want to open their own joke shop, but Mum won't hear about it. Percy wants to follow dad into the Ministry, though in different offices or whatever." He drank his pumpkin juice. Theo scooted over to sit next to Aria.

"So, chess?" Theo questioned. "Have you registered with the Chess Guild of the United Kingdom?"

"Do I look like I have the registration fee for the Guild?" Ron asked. Theo's face tinged pink. "No, I haven't."

"Get your grandfather to pay for it," Theo suggested. "The Old Weasley's rich enough."

"No. I'll get in on my own merit."

"Theo, what are you doing? Get back here!" Draco ordered. "Or I'll tell your father."

Theo's face drained of color and he muttered apologies, scooting back over to where he'd originally been sitting. Aria glared at Draco. That had been below the belt. What a little tattletale.

Professor Snape swept up and down the edges of the table, passing out pieces of parchment. The timetables. He handed Harry, Ron, and Aria's to them and swept away without a word, though he greeted Draco and his crew friendly enough.

What was Professor Snape playing at? Aria studied her professor and neighbor thoughtfully before turning to her timetable. Today she'd need her Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts books for the morning. Then Potions and Herbology were after lunch. Astronomy would be on Tuesdays and Thursdays at eleven o'clock.

"We have just enough time to grab our things," Harry said.

"Look!" Ron showed them the back of their timetables. "A map of Hogwarts! Now we won't get lost."

"Let's go," Aria said, draining the last of her milk. "I can't wait to start."


	6. Flying Lessons

Aria and her friends in Slytherin fell into a routine soon after the first day of school. Joined most of the time by Hermione, as many of their classes were shared with Gryffindors, the four of them set up a diligent study and homework schedule. Out of the four of them, Ron was the least interested in spending copious amounts of time studying, but with three studious friends and no other people he was close to in Slytherin, he went along without much complaint.

The friends made great use of the library and Great Hall for their study sessions. The Great Hall always had snacks between the hours of two and four as dinner was at six-thirty, so sometimes they'd study in the library then take a snack break, or simply move their study group to the Great Hall where they were occasionally joined by Neville or the other two Gryffindor boy first years; Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas.

Of course, their friendliness with the Gryffindors didn't go unnoticed by Draco or the rest of Slytherin House. The first time Aria, Harry, and Ron had sat at the Gryffindor table to have a study and snack session, Draco had stormed up to them demanded to know what they were doing, slumming with Gryffindors.

Which had been overheard by Professor Sprout who promptly removed ten points from the Slytherin hour glass.

Still, within the common room, Draco was able to say such snide things and most of the older students only told him to shut up after he'd been at it for more than five minutes.

All in all, though, Aria knew that Hogwarts was much better than St. Brigid's would have been, and it was certainly much better than primary school. Best of all, owl post didn't cost a thing and she was able to send letters to her dad and he was able to send them back. Now that she wasn't at home, he'd picked up another job on the weekends which pulled in a little more cash to keep things from feeling too tight in the purse.

Three weeks after school started an announcement was posted in the common room on the bulletin board near the portrait hole. Flying lessons for first years would take place that afternoon at three during the usual first year free period.

"Flying?" Aria asked Ron as they went up to breakfast. "Like on real brooms from Muggle fairytales?"

"Do witches ride brooms in Muggle fairytales?" Ron questioned.

"Yes, and witches are also ugly and have warts on their nose."

"That's just rude! And yes, on brooms. Percy told me the brooms here at Hogwarts are old though, so don't expect to be able to go fast or very high."

"Still, flying! On _brooms_! Wait until I tell my dad." Aria all by skipped into the Great Hall. In their first class she snagged a spot with Hermione.

"Aren't you excited about today's flying lessons?" she cried.

"No," Hermione replied with a sniff. "I and heights do not get along."

"Are you afraid of heights or are heights afraid of you?"

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Yes. I don't like heights much if that's what you're meaning." Hermione frowned at Aria. "Don't go too high without me."

"No promises, but we'll take brooms next to each other."

"Deal."

The day was unusually warm for late September, and a small breeze went through the courtyard every now and again. Aria dragged Hermione behind Harry and Ron as they approached the brooms.

"Don't tell me you're going to fail this class?" Ron called over his shoulder. "Just because you're scared of heights. Are you a Gryffindor or not?"

"The Hat did contemplate putting me in Ravenclaw . . . ."

"Well it obviously saw more bravery than brains," Aria replied. "Now come on!" She and Hermione took up spots next to old brooms with bristles all tangled and dull. At least something looked like it was straight out of a Muggle fairytale.

Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, marched through the group of first years.

"Now remember," she cried, voice in tune with her marching feet, "you must speak to your broom like you mean it! Let it know who's boss. Put your hand over your broom and command it UP!"

Aria nudged her broom with her toe before putting her hand over it.

"Up!" The broom rolled over.

" _Up_!" The broom hopped up into her hand. She gripped the wood, feeling the uneven texture. Would she get a splinter? Hadn't Flint been polishing his broom in the common room the other day, and hadn't its handle been smooth to look at?

Maybe the broom was too old or maybe Madam Hooch didn't care about the safety of her students. Wouldn't be the first teacher of that sort.

"Mount your brooms!" Aria took a moment to watch Ron before swinging her leg over the broom handle. Maybe she should have worn shorts under her skirt for this. Madam Hooch came around, correcting the hand holds the students had on the broom handles. Apparently Aria was holding the broom too far down and Hermione was holding it too high while Draco was actually holding the broom too tightly.

"We don't want to choke the broom," Madam Hooch scolded. Aria snickered.

A cry of dismay pulled everyone's attention to the end of one of the lines of students where Neville Longbottom had accidentally launched himself in the air. Aria watched, grinning, as the Gryffindor boy soared higher and higher before zooming off, ramming into a wall, falling to the ground.

Until she'd seen it, she hadn't realized how doubtful she'd been about flying brooms.

Madam Hooch hurried to Neville's side, even as his own housemates and half the Slytherins laughed at him. Hooch pulled he boy to his feet, however, one of Neville's arms hung oddly to his side.

"That's broken," Harry whispered to Ron and Aria.

"How can you tell?" Ron asked.

"I've had a broken arm before."

"I want everyone to stay on the ground while I take Longbottom to the infirmary," Hooch ordered, wrapping one arm over Neville's shoulder, the other holding his broken arm in place. "If there is anyone off the ground when I return you'll be in suspension from school faster than you can say 'Quidditch'." The two disappeared into the school, leaving the two volatile groups of first years staring after them.

"Hey, look at this!" Everyone glanced towards Draco who now stood where Neville had launched from, holding a clear glass ball. As he held it, it filled with red smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" Daphne cried. "It turns red when you've forgotten something."

"It looks like you've forgotten something," Aria commented. Draco glared at her.

"Looks like it's mine now," Draco sneered.

"That's stealing," Harry pointed out.

"Give that back!" Seamus Finnegan, one of the three Gryffindor boys, cried. "We'll tell Madam Hooch."

"You going to tattle on me, Finnegan? What a baby?" Draco hopped on his broom and zoomed around the group. "Are any of you going to stop me from taking it? Or can none of you Lions fly?"

Ron started climbing onto his broom. Aria grabbed his arm.

"You mad?" she demanded. "You heard what Madam Hooch said and what about Professor Snape's rule about us not arguing with our housemates in public?"

Ron shook the broom, looking like he was going to pull out of her grasp and fly off the ground anyway, but instead he dismounted and tossed the broom on the ground with a huff. Draco laughed from where he flew about above their heads. Crabbe and Goyle laughed with him while Blaise pulled a book from his robes and began to read while Pansy clapped and waved at Draco. Daphne, Millicent, and Theo huddled together whispering.

"What an spoiled brat!" Hermione cried, turning her back on Draco.

"What'd you call me, Granger?"

"Mr. Malfoy, you get down this instant!" The Gryffindors started snickering loudly as their Head of House came storming out of the castle, lips a thin line of pink, eyes flashing in anger. Draco landed quicker than Aria could think 'Quidditch' and had dropped the broom before McGonagall had even reached them.

"I'm appalled at such behavior," McGonagall cried. "I just passed Madam Hooch in the corridor and she told me that you were all out here and weren't, upon pain of suspension, to on the brooms. Twenty points from Slytherin. Come with me this instant!" Draco sullenly followed the deputy headmistress into the castle, leaving the others alone.

"This is all your fault!" Pansy snapped at Aria. Aria raised an eyebrow at the girl.

"How is it my fault?" Aria asked. "I wasn't the one on the broom. Maybe Draco shouldn't have disobeyed Madam Hooch."

"Well . . . ." Pansy frowned for a moment. "I don't quite know how it's your fault yet, but I'm sure it is."

"Whatever." Aria put her broom down. "Let's play a game. What wizarding games are there that we can play while we wait?"

* * *

"Do you really think Malfoy will get suspended?" Hermione asked later that day as the friends made their way up to the library.

"Doubt it," Ron muttered. "His father wouldn't hear of it, let alone his grandfather."

"What's his grandfather got to do with anything?" Aria asked.

"In the wizarding world, the pureblood families keep to the tradition Head of House lifestyle," Ron replied. "Like, my family live at our house, the Burrow, but my grandfather is Head of the Most Ancient House of Weasley. We Weasleys are a little more lax than other families, I think. My grandfather keeps tabs on us grandkids, but he doesn't dictate what we can and cannot do unless he strongly feels it goes against the family values. Other pureblood families, like the Malfoys, are more rigid. Everything is dictated by the Head of the family. Abraxas Malfoy is Head of the Most Noble House of Malfoy."

"I'm going to need to find a book that explains all this," Aria declared, mounting the last staircase before the library corridor.

The staircase gave a sudden lurch, throwing Aria, Ron, Hermione, and Harry to their knees. They staid still until the staircase came to a stop, then they continued on until the landing.

"We'll have to go around to get to the library now," Hermione complained. "I wanted to get my potions homework done."

"You will," Aria assured her.

"This is the third floor corridor," Harry said. "Remember . . . didn't Dumbledore say something about it at the opening feast? Or wasn't there a notice about this corridor? To stay away from it?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "It's on the notice board in the common room. Come on."

"Don't you want to know what's down there?" Aria asked. "It could be fun to explore." Ron frowned at her.

"If you want to risk Snape's wrath you go right ahead. If I want to know what's down the corridor, I'll just ask Fred and George."

With Ron leading them, the children went the long way around to the library, leaving the figure watching from the shadows to frown and ponder.


	7. The Samhain Troll

**I know, the last chapter was super short. Sorry about that, life and work has gotten in the way so the last chapter ended up being shorter than I intended. Fear not, this will not be a pattern!**

 **I do not own Harry Potter. Only Aria Bourne (the fictional one).**

October 30, a Thursday, found the common room abuzz with excitement for the next evening's Halloween Feast. The older students were discussing what treats they were hoping to be served, and looking forward to the early end of classes.

"Why are we getting out of classes early?" Aria asked as she spread her homework over her section of table. Harry and Ron adjusted their books to make room for her.

"Because we're also celebrating the destruction of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Daphne said from the table next to them. "Halloween's the night he was defeated."

"By Harry?" Aria wanted to make sure she got it right.

"Yes."

"Wait, _Halloween_?" Harry cried. "That's when I defeated him?" Theo and Blaise looked up from their homework. Several upper years who'd overheard looked their way, but Harry didn't seem to notice. His green eyes were trained on Daphne and held such an intense desire that Aria almost backed away.

"Yes," Daphne replied. "Didn't you know that.?"

"No, I didn't. I didn't even know I was someone who was famous until I went shopping and Hagrid told me. So . . . wait . . . if Halloween's the night that I defeated Voldemort—,"

Various students gasped and made some sort of strange movement in front of their chests, like they were trying to ward off evil.

"—then that means Halloween's the night my parents died." Harry's voice faded at the end of the sentence and his quill dropped from his hand. He fell back against the back of his chair, a faraway look coming over him at the startling realization. Daphne's eyes widened and the first years shared looks. What should they do? How did one handle a friend who'd just discovered the night his parents died was a night their culture was celebrating as a victory?

"You going to cry, Potter?" Draco sneered from the couches. Aria glared at the boy over her shoulder. He hadn't gotten suspended, but Snape had taken an additional fifty points from Slytherin and given the spoiled brat a week's detention. "Poor orphaned Potter wants sympathy. You're not going to find any here."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron snapped.

"Or what? You're going to make me?"

"Yes," Aria hissed. "I will. The Muggle way."

"The Muggle way? That doesn't sound the least bit frightening." Aria made to stand, who did Malfoy think he was, mocking a person just because his parents were dead? But Harry grabbed her arm and yanked her back to her seat.

"He's not worth it," Harry said. "Not at the moment." He picked up his quill. "Regardless, I don't feel like attending the feast. You and Ron can go, but I won't."

"No," Aria said. "We'll stay with you."

"We will?" Ron questioned. Aria glowered at him and he nodded his head. "I mean, of course we'll stick with you, Harry."

"You need to come to terms with their death." The common room turned to seventh year prefect, Tyson Turner. He got up from the armchair he'd claimed to come stand by Harry. "You need to celebrate Samhain. Come to a spiritual closure about their deaths or else your magic will stifle."

"Sam-what?" Harry asked.

"A lot of our holidays are getting mixed up with more Muggle traditions," Turner said. "Halloween and Samhain being just an example. However, many who live solely in the wizarding community still celebrate the Old Religion. My family still does."

Several older students verbally agreed with him.

"Tomorrow, after classes, we can celebrate Samhain," Turner said. "Before the feast. You'll attend because you're a Slytherin and while some . . . ." he glanced at Malfoy, "have other thoughts, Slytherins stick together no matter what. Regardless of political ideals."

"I guess," Harry murmured, glancing at Aria and Ron.

"We'll celebrate with you," Ron told him.

"Yeah," Aria answered. "Even though I'm not religious or anything."

"The Old Religion is more about being spiritual than religious," Turner told Aria. "Our magic is connected with what it's around. Surround it with darkness and it'll turn dark, but surround it with light and it'll be so."

"Wizarding Philosophy?" Aria asked.

"Just common sense. We can do this in a variety of ways. If you wanted your friends we could have a bonfire before the feast and even use the Halloween Feast as a Feast of the Dead. We could set up an altar for the night too."

"We put one in our room," one of the fourth year girls said.

"I'd almost be afraid my things would be stolen," Harry muttered.

"It's frowned upon to steal things from people's altars," Turner said. "Malfoy and his cronies won't steal anything off yours."

"Excuse me?" Draco cried. Everyone ignored him.

"You'll need something personal from both of your parents," Turner continued to Harry. Harry's face fell and he slumped in his seat.

"I don't own anything from my parents, except my money," he answered.

"What do you mean?" another student asked. "You're the last of the Potter Line. Your inheritance can't be kept from you. Surely you have at least photos."

Harry shook his head.

"Are you telling us you don't even know what your parents look like?" Turner cried. Harry nodded. The common room was silent for a moment. Then, it erupted in loud, angry voices. Aria almost fell out of her chair at the start of the noise, startled as she was. Theo dropped his book and Crabbe jerked out of his doze.

"Why do you not know what your parents look like?" one girl demanded.

"My parents certainly never agreed with the Potters on matters of politics, but to deny the last heir even a glance of what his parents looked like . . . ."

"Why don't you have any photos?" Marcus Flint asked.

"My guardians, my mum's aunt and her husband, never liked my parents. Until Hogwarts, I thought they'd died in a car crash because my dad was driving drunk." Harry inched closer to Aria, obviously startled beyond belief at the outburst from the other students and the sudden surrounding of them.

"You have Muggle guardians don't you?" Tracey Paddington, the fifth year girl prefect, questioned a small sneer crossing her face.

"Yes," Harry muttered. "Certainly not the best Muggles, they hate magic and they hated my parents."

"This is not to say all Muggles hate magic," Aria was quick to add. Harry nodded in agreement, even though some of the upper years appeared skeptical at the statement.

"This cannot do," Prudence Attleberry stated. "Potter is the last of the Potter Line, one of the few houses in this world that's both Ancient and Noble. Potter, you must write your Gringotts manager immediately requesting an inventory of all your monies and possessions including properties and investments. Then you should—,"

"I have a bank manager?" Harry questioned.

"Of course you have a damn bank manager," Prudence huffed. "All pureblood families have one."

"I'm not pureblood."

"Technicality because your mother was Muggleborn. The point being, your father came from an old pureblood family, one of the oldest in Britain. Only the Blacks, Longbottoms, and Bones go back as far as yours does before you start getting other families like the Malfoys and Attleberrys coming in from Ireland and Europe. You should have met the goblin when you got your money for school. Or your solicitor should've been sending your bank statements."

"Wow, you do pay attention during our culture lessons," Tracey cried, patting Prudence o the shoulder. Prudence shoved Tracey over.

Harry looked wildly between Aria and Ron. Personally, Aria's head hurt from the information she was listening to. It appeared there was much more about being pureblood than just having no Muggles or Muggleborns in the family.

"I've never gotten any bank statements," Harry said. "I thought I was going to . . . have to ask Hagrid about scholarships until he took me to Gringotts and handed the goblin my key. My guardians certainly weren't going to pay for Hogwarts."

"Who sends the gamekeeper to take someone supply shopping?" Daphne asked.

"Who took you shopping?" Theo asked Aria.

"Professor Snape," Aria replied. "And Hermione Granger and Dean Thomas in Gryffindor said that Professor McGonagall took them."

"What's the Headmaster playing at?" Flint wondered aloud.

"He's playing god, that's what he's doing," another boy said. This seventh year, lean enough to look taller than he actually was, with deep set eyes that were dark and calculating, came through the crowd and peered down at Aria and her friends, making her feel very small.

"You and your conspiracy theories, Richards," Turner sneered.

"They aren't conspiracy theories if they're true," Richards snapped. "And, in case you haven't noticed, the only professors that give a bloody thought to Slytherin is Snape, McGonagall, and Vector; and Snape and Vector are former Slytherins. The Headmaster's never come to our defense against bullies and he's certainly proven he takes the word of others over us. He's the Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and a Grand Sorcerer as well as the Defeater of Grindelwald."

"I think we're getting off topic," Aria said. "We were discussing how terrible it was that Harry obviously doesn't know a thing about his family heritage."

"Maybe he should go to McGonagall," Draco sneered. "Afterall, his parents were Gryffindors."

Surprised at the excellent suggestion, even though it was obvious Draco was trying to turn it into something nasty, everyone stared at the blonde for a moment, making him squirm.

"That's . . . surprisingly a good idea," Turner said.

"What?" Draco cried.

"Yeah, Potter, go to McGonagall," Prudence ordered. "If anything, she might be able to tell you something useful about your parents."

"I didn't mean for it to be a good idea," Draco whined.

"Shut it," Aria ordered as she, Ron, and Harry packed up their things. They left the common room, walking quickly as they only had an hour until curfew. Ron led the way, as it appeared his brothers had told him how to get to the Gryffindor portrait hole.

The portrait known only as the Fat Lady stared ruefully down at them.

"What do you snakes want?" she demanded.

"Well, we want to talk to McGonagall, but her office hours are over," Ron answered.

"Then go away and go see her in the morning."

"We're not sure it can wait," Aria replied.

"Well I'm not going to help you."

"Then will you at least get Percy Weasley?" Ron pleaded. "He's my brother." The Fat Lady glared at them before disappearing from the portrait. She reappeared within minutes, seconds before the portrait swung open and Percy stepped out.

"What's the matter?" Percy asked, looking his brother up and down for injuries. "Are you all right? Did any other the Slytherins attack you?"

"No, I'm fine," Ron answered, though it was obvious that he enjoyed the concerned attention from his brother who, from what Aria had seen, was a bit bookish and too busy with his prefect duties to do much with any of his brothers.

"We want to see McGonagall," Ron told Percy. "See, some of the older students in Slytherin want to have a Samhain bonfire and help set up an altar for Harry since he's never celebrated Samhain, but he doesn't own anything of his parents. Not even a picture."

"Really?" Percy glanced at Harry who nodded his head, though his face was bright pink now. "And what makes you think McGonagall can help?"

"My parents were Gryffindor," Harry said. Understanding flashed across Percy's face. With a wave of his hand he had the first years follow him halfway down the corridor to a portrait of an elderly couple in Victorian garb. He knocked on the portrait and within a minute Professor McGonagall appeared.

"Mr. Weasley, this is a surprise."

"I know, Professor. But my brother and his friends wanted to see you about something important." Professor McGonagall glanced at the three Slytherin first years.

"It's not about your Head of House is it?" she asked.

"No," they answered.

"The headmaster?"

They shook their heads.

"Come in then. Thank you, Mr. Weasley, that'll be all."

The portrait closed behind the trio. Professor McGonagall motioned for them to sit in front of the fire before disappearing out of the room, returning with a tray laden with tea and chocolate cookies. She poured them tea and divided out the cookies.

"Now, what is it that you felt the need to see me about?" Professor McGonagall questioned, sitting down across from the three. "It must be important or you'd have waited until morning."

"I found out that tomorrow is the day my parents died," Harry blurted. His face turned bright red at the admission. Professor McGonagall's back stiffened, her eyes widening.

"Are you serious?" she cried, her Scottish brogue becoming thicker. "You did not know when your own parents died? Didn't your relatives ever tell you?"

"They don't like speaking of my parents much," Harry answered slowly. "I think it might . . . be difficult for them." McGonagall snorted.

"Don't try and hide your relatives disdain for the magical from me, Mr. Potter. I was there when the Headmaster dropped you at their home. Worst sort of Muggles. And I like Muggles. I have plenty of family who are Muggles."

"Well when I realized what day they'd died, I didn't feel like going to the Halloween Feast," Harry continued. "And that somehow sparked some of the older Slytherins advising me that I should, perhaps, participate in Samhain. Make an altar in memory of my parents."

"Wise advice," McGonagall said with a nod. "Helps bring closure."

"But then I realized that I don't have anything personal that belonged to my parents," Harry said. "No mementoes, no pictures . . . ."

"You don't have pictures? Your relatives . . . of course they wouldn't have photos of Lily and James." McGonagall stood from her seat and crossed over to a vanity filled with pictures; some old, some new, some in more prominent places than others. She removed one photo from a shelf at eye level and returned with it, handing it to Harry.

"This was taken on their wedding day," Professor McGonagall explained. Aria and Ron leaned over Harry's shoulder to see.

A couple, no older than twenty-one or so smiled and waved at them. The young man and woman were dressed in traditional wizarding ceremonial robes decorated with embroidery that moved about the hemline. The woman's hair was shockingly red, like the sky at sunset after a hot day, and her eyes were a vivid green. Beside her the man's hair was black and stuck in every direction and his brown eyes were hidden behind glasses.

"Your mum's beautiful, Harry," Aria murmured. Indeed, besides her own mother, Lily Potter was the most gorgeous woman Aria had ever seen.

"You look like your dad," Ron commented. "But you've got your mum's eyes." Harry traced his fingers over his parents before they kissed, James Potter scooping Lily off her feet and twirling her around.

"They look so happy," Harry whispered.

"They had their ups and downs like any other young couple," McGonagall said. "But they were happy. Especially when you came along. But they were also very brave. They wanted nothing more than for you to grow up in a safe place, where war and blood purity were a thing of the past."

"Maybe they should've moved," Harry muttered, his voice surprisingly choked. "Then they'd still be alive."

"It may seem as if they died for nothing, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said. "But, as you grow and are able to understand the nuances of what motivates people, I think you'll come to realize just why your parents staid. This was their home, and they were going to fight for it. Gryffindors to the end."

Aria thought she detected a tear roll down her professor's face.

Harry handed the photo back to McGonagall. The professor drew her wand, tapped the photo with a whispered word, and a copy peeled off the original. She removed the original from its frame, handing it to Harry, while she slipped the copy into the frame.

"There you go, Potter," she said. "Something to remember your parents by. Though if you want more, and don't tell him you heard it from me, but you really should speak to your Head of House. He and Lily Potter were the best of the friends for their first few years of Hogwarts."

"He never said," Harry murmured.

"No. With a house like yours, I doubt he would."

* * *

October 31st arrived with a calm morning and storm clouds over the distant mountains. By the time the Slytherin first years were entering their last class the day, Charms, the dark clouds were only miles away, approaching rapidly.

"Today we're going to learn to levitate objects," Professor Flitwick stated, swishing his wand. White feathers floated out of a box, one landing in front of each student. "Now, if you'll remember we've been practicing our wand movements for the past few classes. This particular charm will require the swish and flick movement. Let me see you all do it."

Aria raised her wand with the rest of her classmates, swishing and flicking to the delight of the professor.

"Now, the charm is this; _Wingardium Leviosa_. Let's all say that without our wands."

" _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," Aria enunciated.

"Excellent. Now I want you all to work on levitating your feathers. Remember that when you flick your wand at the end of the incantation, the wand should be pointing at the object your wish to levitate. Or you may find yourself levitating something you don't wish to."

Aria peered at her feather, all innocent looking. Hopefully this would be easier than turning a matchstick into a needle or a cup into a button.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," she said, swishing and flicking her wand. Nothing happened. She repeated the spell. Had her feather moved? It certainly looked like it had. She leaned down closer to it, narrowing her eyes. She was going to be the first one to do this spell!

" _Wingardium Leviosa_!" she cried. The feather shifted but didn't leave the top of the desk. Beside her she heard Ron growl in frustration before shaking his wand at the feather.

"Stop!" Hermione cried from Ron's other side. "You're going to poke somebody's eye out. Besides, you're saying it wrong. It's LeviOsa. Not LeviosA!"

Ron glared at the bushy haired Gryffindor.

"If you're so clever," he snapped, "you do it."

"Ron, that's like asking for her to show you up," Aria cried, leaning around her red haired friend to watch Hermione. Hermione dismissed Ron's words with a sniff, straightened her back, and carefully swish and flicked, carefully enunciating the charm. Immediately her feather lifted from the desktop and Hermione floated it over to Professor Flitwick. Aria groaned while Ron slumped in his seat.

"Well done, Miss Granger!" their professor cried. "Ten points to Gryffindor!"

Aria turned back to her feather.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_!" she cried, a hint of anger creeping into her voice. Magic seemed to come so easily for Hermione, and no matter how hard she studied, it didn't come like it did for Hermione. It just wasn't fair!

Her feather suddenly zoomed up to the ceiling, startling everyone. It floated back towards them.

"Excellent work," Professor Flitwick said. "Perhaps, though, since this is a very small and light object, you could put less emotion into your words and save such strength for larger objects like desks or people."

When the class ended, the students hurried out faster than normal in order to maximize their free time on this holiday. Ron, however, wasn't in so much of a hurry.

"You're a nightmare sometimes, Hermione!" he cried as they walked down the corridor. Hermione's eyes widened in shock at the outburst.

"I'm a what?" she cried.

"A nightmare," Ron replied. "What blood hell does it matter how I pronounce something."

"I was only trying to help, Ronald Weasley!"

"Well could you not be such a know-it-all when you do? Why else are you only friends Slytherin?"

"Ron!" Aria cried. Hermione shoved Ron into Harry before rushing off, bushy hair flying behind her. Around them people sniggered, people like Pansy and Lavender Brown from Gryffindor."

"You're such an arse, Ron," Aria cried. "What sort of friend does that?" She ran after Hermione, barely catching up with her as she ran into a girl's bathroom. Hermione tried to lock herself in a stall, but one swift hand from Aria stopped her from closing the door.

"Go away, Aria," Hermione cried. "I want to be left alone."

"Probably why you shouldn't be alone," Aria said. "If I left you alone you'd be in here crying until the feast. So, come on. My mum use to say not all tears are bad. I think crying over Ron's words is fine. The whole staying here stewing on them until the feast probably isn't."

Hermione slide down the stall wall until she was sitting on the ground. Aria settled beside her, digging into her backpack for a tissue which she passed to Hermione.

"Thanks," Hermione muttered. "Am I really such a nightmare?"

"You're a know-it-all for sure," Aria admitted.

"I just want people to know that I do belong here. You know? I've been reading about all this blood purity stuff, which really is just another form of the racism we see on television or read about in books."

"We belong here," Aria stated, making sure her voice was firm. "Nobody is going to change that fact, no matter how badly they want to. But, Hermione, there are ways of showing you're smart without being a know-it-all. Doing well on homework, passing it in on time, doing well on tests and quizzes, that's one way of showing people like the professors that you're serious about being a witch. My first year primary school teacher once told us that if the same person is constantly answering the questions, the other children won't want to because if they get it wrong, they'll feel awfully and won't be motivated to learn. I think that, in your honorable quest to show you want to belong to this new world, that you're intensity is putting people off wanting to learn and be around you."

Hermione sniffed, wiping new tears away.

"Is that why you don't show off your enthusiasm for learning like me?" Hermione asked. "Because everyone knows you're smart. I hear them talking about you in the common room. Seamus thinks you're hot."

"He would," Aria sneered. "And I won't be looking at him any time soon, though I suppose he'd be better than Draco Malfoy." The two girls stuck their tongues out in disgust.

"And yes," Aria replied. "I got bullied a lot at primary for being too smart and doing freaky things. But most of the teachers liked me because I was responsible. Granted, living where I live, that like wasn't much but I took what I could get. And I'm going to prove that I belong here too, just maybe without being pointing out the mistakes of my friend's so _loudly_ in class."

"Do I talk loud?"

"Only outside the library."

Hermione giggled, as it was usually her who had to remind the others to whisper when they studied in the library.

"Now, come on. Let's get out of our uniforms. Why don't you join us for the Samhain bonfire? Turner's hoping we can get it in before the storm comes tonight."

"Do you think they'll let me, seeing as I'm a Muggleborn and a Gryffindor?"

"Well I'm Muggleborn."

"You're a Slytherin."

"Whatever. Come anyway."

* * *

"What is _she_ doing here?" Pansy demanded as Aria escorted Hermione down to the bonfire area near Hagrid's hut. Hermione glared at the girl.

"She heard what we were doing and wanted to come," Aria replied. "And seeing as she knows nothing about wizarding culture except what she's read in books, I didn't see any problem about it. What's wrong with wanting to learn about the culture you're a part of?"

"She's a Gryffindor," Pansy sneered.

"She's a witch," Aria snapped. "And has every right to learn about the religions of the wizarding world."

The first years turned to the upper years who'd gathered, Turner using his wand to light the bonfire.

"The Old Religion sees no difference in blood," Turner replied. "If the Gryffindor wants to understand her new world then so be it. Maybe if Muggleborns understood this world better they'd be more apt to remain."

"Now's not the time for politics, Turner," Flint snapped. "Most of us aren't interested in your view anyway. Just get on with the ritual."

Turner rolled his eyes.

"Everyone gather round in a circle and hold hands," Turner instructed. "No funny business or I'll hex you to Iceland."

Aria stood between Ron and Hermione while Harry took Hermione's other side. The gathered group, thirty in total, made a large circle around the growing flames of the bonfire. Behind Turner, Aria could make out Hagrid's hut in the growing darkness. Lights twinkled from the man's windows and she thought she could see the man's shadow as he moved about inside.

"Great Mother and Good Father!" Turner cried, raising his hands, still clasping those on either side of him. Every followed suit. "On this night, when the Veil between our world and yours is at its thinnest, bless us that we may not be harmed through interactions with the Beyond; and grant us peace in the knowledge that those we love, who have passed, are themselves at peace."

The sun disappeared over the distant western hills. Darkness fell over the grounds, the stars blackened by the thick canopy of clouds. A rumble of thunder reached their ears.

"And now we offer our own individual prayers," Turner said. "Everyone will pray in their hearts and minds to their past family members and to the Great Mother and the Good Father. When you're done, release the hands of those you're holding and raise your wand before you."

 _I don't know if you can actually hear me_ , Aria thought, _but in case you're real, Great Mother and Good Father, please take care of my mum for me. Make sure she's not in pain anymore. And mum, I miss you a lot. I wish you were here to see me at Hogwarts. You always told me that I was special. If only you knew how much._

Finished, Aria pulled her wand and held it in front of her chest. Slowly everyone around the circle brought their wands to their chests.

"The enchantment to seal our prayers over the fire is _Finite Paidir_ ," Turner instructed. "This shouldn't be too difficult for even the first years. On the count of three. One, two, three!"

" _Finite Paidir_!" Aria cried, her voice rising with the others assembled. Immediately she felt a rush of magic move from somewhere deep within her, through her arm, and out of wand in a display of beautiful blue sparks. Others too had sparks coming from their wands, but in different colors. Hermione's were orange, Ron's red. Harry's were a deep purple and Draco's was white.

At that moment the sky opened and rain fell heavy on the students. The bonfire went out in minutes. Everyone yanked their cloaks or jackets over their heads, sprinting for the castle. When they arrived, every one of them were soaked. Thankfully, Turner and his seventh year peers were helpful and were willing to cast Drying Charms on the first and second years who hadn't learned that particular charm yet.

"Hermione," Ron called before they entered the Great Hall. "I'm really sorry about what I said to you earlier. It was . . . uncalled for." Aria almost laughed at Harry's proud gaze he cast on Ron. Obviously Harry had had great influence on getting Ron to apologize. It certainly looked like Ron would rather be anywhere but there, if the redness of his face and ears were anything to go by.

"Thank you," Hermione replied with a sniff. "You're forgiven."

They entered the Great Hall and were immediately accosted by the elder Weasley brothers.

"Where've you been, Ronnikins?" Fred and George asked. "We saw you come in with all the big bad Slytherins, soaking wet."

"We were having a Samhain bonfire," Ron answered.

"Ah, celebrating the Old Religion," Fred cried. "Dodgy stuff that. Grandfather really gets all serious about it."

"It was fascinating," Aria stated. "I think I'd like to learn more about the Old Religion. If only to learn more about wizarding culture in general."

"Well as long as you're fine," Percy murmured to Ron. "At least it wasn't some sort of Dark ritual where you sold your soul to the devil or something."

"Can you do that?" Aria asked.

Harry and Ron steered her towards the Slytherin table.

Turner instructed the Slytherins on laying out plates filled with food at one end of the table for those that had departed from them. All the Slytherins then squished onto the last two-thirds of the table. Draco was almost shoved off the bench while Crabbe and Goyle ended up standing at the very end in order to eat.

They certainly drew more than one stare, and not just from the students. Aria noted that the professors glanced at the Slytherin table more than once. Professor Snape looked oddly proud, though she supposed the look could be construed as a grimace. He did have a peculiar way of showing his emotions.

Halfway through the feast the doors burst open and Professor Quirrell streaked in.

"TROLL!" he yelled. "IN THE DUNGEONS!" He skidded to a halt in front of the Head Table before falling over in a dead faint. Aria almost snorted. Some Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

Several students screamed in fear. Dumbledore stood, waved his wand, making loud bangs erupt from the end of his wand.

"If you could all calm yourselves," he said. "If the prefects could please escort their houses to their dormitories . . . ."

"But we're in the dungeons!" Flint cried.

"And we're almost in the dungeons," someone from the Hufflepuff table cried.

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "All students please remain in the Great Hall while the professors deal with the troll." He, the four Heads of House and most of the professors left the hall. Professor Vector, the Runes professor, and Professor Sinistra the Astronomy professor, stayed behind to be support for the Head Boy and Girl in watching the children.

Hermione came over to the Slytherin table, head held high as the older students eyed her with barely concealed disgust and the other tables whispered.

"What are the empty places for?" she asked.

"It's a Feast for the Dead," Daphne explained. "Food offerings for anyone who's come over for the night."

A sudden shaking of the floor caused everyone to freeze. A putrid smell that caused Aria and many others to gag filled the room.

"I think the troll's left the dungeons," someone said.

"First years to the Head Table!" Vector shouted as he and Sinistra made their way to the doors of the Great Hall, now shut and locked. "I want first years in the back, seventh years behind me and Sinistra. Youngest will be farthest from the door."

As the houses hurried to do as the professor said, the doors to the Great Hall shook with a mighty bang. Several children screamed. Aria drew her wand, even as she and Hermione latched onto each other. Harry and Ron stepped in front of them, also drawing their wands.

Could they fight off a troll? Probably not as first years, but certainly the two professors and four houses of seventh years could.

The door banged again, shaking on its hinges. Rock dust fell from the stone around the hinges. Never a good sign.

"When the troll breaks in," Vector's voice came from the front of the hall, "cast _Stupify_. Understand?" Dozens of students muttered their understanding.

"I don't think we've learned that one yet," Aria whispered.

"It's a stunning charm," Hermione whispering. "I read about it. It's a third year spell."

"Well then it's a good thing we've got the third to seventh years standing in front of us right? I mean, how many Stunning Charms does it take to stun a troll?"

The doors caved with another resounding bang. Splintering wood echoed throughout the Great Hall. Where was Dumbledore and the other professors? Surely by now they realized that the troll wasn't in the Great Hall?

"Fourth years to first!" Sinistra shouted. "I want you out of this room. Go through the professor's entrance!"

Second years sped past the first years towards the side door Dumbledore and others had gone through, sidestepping Professor Quirrell who was only now just rising to his feet. The first student who reached the door jiggled the handle.

"It's stuck!" she shouted. " _Alohamora_!" Still the door wouldn't budge.

"Wands out!" Vector yelled as the door gave a final bang, breaking open with a volley of splinters. The most disgusting smell, like rotten eggs and the garbage dump on a hot summer's day, filled the Great Hall. A troll, grayish-green with boils and scraggly hair and a large club stood before the students.

"Fire!" the Runes professor screamed.

" _Stupify_!" the students screamed, pointing their wands at the troll. Red bolts of magic shot from the wands of many students, hitting the troll, knocking it back a few feet, but hardly stunning it. Immediately students and professors recast the spells.

"Trolls are resistant to magic!" Aria heard Draco shout as he and the other first years tried to send off their own stunners with little success.

Fear filled Aria's stomach, rolling and weaving like waves on the river. It filled her, she could feel her magic tingling within her, like it had when she was little and over-emotional. Like right before "freaky" things happened, her accidental magic.

Focusing on that, even as the troll began making its way into the Great Hall, even as the mass of students pressed back against the back wall, Aria suddenly felt her mind and heart connect to her magic, the very center of her being. Fear wrapped around this connection, but not a paralyzing fear, an adrenaline rush fear. Her flight or fight and it was fueling her magic to do one thing, and one thing only.

Fight.

She raised her wand.

"STUPIFY!" she screamed. In the same manner as her magic had raced up her arm during the Samhain bonfire, it did so again, but this time, it was more than a tingle. It was like a fire racing from within her, heating her wand until the wood was almost too hot to touch, and in a loud red burst of light, shot from her wand with a tremendous and deafening BANG! Students ducked for cover as her red bolt hit the troll squarely in the forehead, snapping its neck back, toppling it over. It fell to the stones of the Great Hall, creating a small troll sized crater in the floor.

Aria dropped her wand, the heat too much for her.

Silence fell over the Great Hall as everyone turned to stare at her.


	8. Magical Cores

**Thanks for all the reviews!**

 **Again, I own nothing but the OC characters and the deviated plotline. JK Rowling owns Harry Potter.**

Darkness came over her.

The next thing Aria was aware of was waking up staring at the ceiling of the Great Hall, her head in Hermione's lap as the Gryffindor cried over her. On either side Harry and Ron knelt while the rest of the Slytherin first years who tolerated her gathered around, concern etched over their faces.

"Wh-what happened?" Aria asked, trying to sit up, but finding no energy. Talking even hurt.

"You fainted," Ron answered. "That was a brilliant piece of magic!"

"Accidental no doubt," Daphne commented from behind Harry.

"Everything hurts," Aria whined.

"Out of the way!" Snape's irratated voice parted the students and he knelt beside Harry to peer at Aria. He waved his wand over her, growling at whatever the spell told him.

"We need to get you to the hospital wing," he stated, shoving Harry aside to slip his arms under Aria's shoulders and knees. Hermione guided Aria's head onto Snape's shoulder. The man stood, gently adjusting Aria so that her head wouldn't loll off his shoulder.

"Greengrass!" Snape snapped. "Hand me Bourne's wand. I want to look at it. All Slytherins return to the common room immediately. Prefects, get them there. That means you, Weasley and Potter."

He swept from the Great Hall.

"What have you gotten yourself into," he muttered once they were alone.

"Are you going to tell my dad?"

"I always inform parents when their child's been to the infirmary for something other than a cold."

"He might worry."

"Many parents do."

Aria hummed in agreement.

They arrive at the hospital wing. The mediwitch, Madam Pomfrey, directed Snape to place Aria down on a bed and she waved her wand over Aria. Numbers and runes appeared over Aria's body, telling the mediwitch and Snape things that Aria couldn't understand.

"What happened?" Pomfrey demanded. "A first year shouldn't have this sort of magical exhaustion."

"She took down a mountain troll with a single Stunning Charm," Snape replied. "And burnt her wand in the process." He showed the witch Aria's wand.

"What's that mean?" Aria asked, trying to sit up. Why was she so weak?

"It means that you used so much magic, your magic fried your wand's core," Snape replied, pushing Aria back down. "Your wand helps conduct your magic, but you can overload it and burn it out. Only strong wizards and witches can manage that, and it's not something to be taken lightly. Dumbledore's burn wands before."

"Only a few have in the history of our kind," the mediwitch said, summoning a vial with the flick of her wand. "But they were adults, many years after Hogwarts or whatever school they attended. Miss Bourne is a mere first year! Now drink this dear, it'll help restore your magical core. You should be right as rain in the morning strength wise, but you won't be able to perform any magic until I tell you that you're well enough to."

"Good thing she doesn't have a wand then," Snape stated.

"But how am I meant to do classes when I am better?" Aria asked, almost choking on the potion. It takes like old socks.

"How much money do you have left?"

"Two Galleons?"

"I'll speak to the Headmaster. He may be able to get you enough Galleons to get a new wand."

"When she's well enough to perform magic again, I want her tested," Pomfrey told Snape. "Just to ensure you nor I missed anything. And to see how strong she's going to be. If this was a fluk then we don't have to worry, but if it's not . . . ."

"If not what?" Aria demanded. She yawned.

"Go to sleep," Snape ordered. "I'll check on you in the morning."

* * *

Morning came with too much clarity. Aria remembered _everything_ , most importantly, she understood the severity of not having her wand. How was she meant to do classes? Would she fail? What had Professor Snape said last night about getting another wand? Had he even said anything? Everything went from clarity to hazy in seconds and some seconds Aria wasn't entirely sure what had happened besides the fact that she had taken down a troll and now she felt something rebuilding inside her.

"How are you feeling, Miss Bourne?" Madam Pomfrey asked as she bustled into the infirmary with a floating tray of breakfast behind her.

"Like something's rebuilding inside of me," Aria replied.

"That's good. That'd be your magical core which you almost completely drained last night. The fact that you can feel it rebuilding itself is a good sign that you're on the road to recovery. Here, take this potion. It'll give you energy for the day."

Aria dutifully took the foul potion that still tasted like old socks, then eagerly accepted the tray of food.

"Your Head of House and the Headmaster will be here shortly with a Healer from St. Mungos. That's the hospital."

"Whatever for?"

"Well we need to run some tests to determine if your display of magic last night was a one off—a burst of late accidental magic—or something that's reoccur. It could be that in your distress you accidentally unleashed the power of your magical core, meaning what it'll rebuild too is too powerful for a first year to handle."

Aria blinked at the woman. What was she saying?

Madam Pomfrey tsked and patted Aria's shoulder.

"I'm sure Professor Snape can explain it in a less complicated manner than me," she said. "I'd probably start tossing in medical terms. Eat your breakfast."

Aria crammed scrambled eggs into her mouth, washing it down with cold pumpkin juice. She rarely ate a large breakfast, but she was suddenly ravenous.

As she polished off the last of her toast and bacon, the infirmary doors opened. Headmaster Dumbledore stepped in, wearing a flashy turquoise robe, followed by a man that Aria had never seen before, Professor Snape, and her dad?

"Dad?" Aria cried. "What are you doing here? I thought Muggles couldn't see the castle? Hermione said that's what she read in _Hogwarts, a History_."

"You would be correct," Professor Snape replied. "However, your father sent a letter back with the owl I send him last night insisting he see you. As it's Hogwarts policy to allow parents to see their children in the infirmary if they request it, I went this morning to fetch him."

"You're not going to come every time I land in the infirmary are you?" Aria asked Kenneth.

"No," Kenneth said with a laugh, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Only if you promise to stop fighting trolls."

"No guarentees, Dad." Aria noticed a blue pendant with several runes etched into the metal.

"This helps me see the castle," Kenneth told her. "If I take it off, all I see if a pile of ruins." He felt her forehead. "How you feeling?"

"Better. I'm still hungry."

"That's because using magic requires energy," the unknown man in gray robes told Aria. "I'm Healer Smith from St. Mungos. I specialize in magical cores, ensuring that wizards and witches are working with their cores, not against them. If you noticed, Hogwarts gives a lot of food at meals. That's because you're spending a lot of energy in classes with your practical lessons and therefore need more energy that food gives to keep you going. I'd be worried if you weren't feeling hungry."

"Healer Smith is the best in his field," Dumbledore assured Kenneth. "He's studied my magical core many times."

"The Headmaster is one of the strongest wizards in his generation," Healer Smith said. "As well as any of our generations." He nodded to Pomfrey and Snape. "I'm here to determine how large your core is and whether this was a case of high-stress late-life accidental magic or a precursor to a larger core."

"What does that mean?" Kenneth asked.

"By the time children reach Hogwarts, the cases of accidental magic have lessened," Healer Smith explained. "Because their core has reached a malleable stage where it can stretch and grow. Hence Hogwarts. Like a muscle, the magical core must be strengthened and challenged over time. Magical cores don't reach their full potential until seventeen, though you do have late bloomers whose cores don't finish until they're twenty of twenty-one. Mine didn't finish growing until I was nineteen. But I digress. If this _wasn't_ a case of accidental magic brought on by the high-stress situation then that means Aria's core will have prematurely grown which can be disastrous if left to itself. She would have more accidental magic that, due to the size of her core, could be more harmful without her meaning it to be. She'd need to enter in a more rigorous training curriculum and would need to see me or another specialist in this field until her core stabilized, which most likely wouldn't be until she was seventeen or so."

Aria turned her slack-jawed face to her dad who looked at Healer Smith as if he had two heads. Then they both looked to Professor Snape.

"Why don't you test Miss Bourne?" Professor Snape suggested. "The we can continue from there."

Kenneth moved off the bed and Healer Smith motioned for Aria to lay flat on her back. He waved his wand over her, releasing blue and green magic over her that shimmered and weaved over her body. The blue strands touched her chest before pulling back, followed by the green strands. Her chest filled with fuzzy feelings, tickling her insides. She laughed, fighting the urge to squirm and rub her chest.

The blue strands faded, leaving nothing but the green which pulsed quickly several times before bursting into tiny green sparks and falling over Aria and the sides of the bed.

"Bloody hell!" Kenneth cried.

"Eloquent as always, Dad," Aria teased.

"Well?" Kenneth asked the healer. "What's the verdict?"

Heather Smith shook his head and performed another spell, this time, orange strands touched Aria's chest though instead of tickling her, the magic filled her with warmth until she thought she'd die of overheating. She began waving her hands like fans against her face and she felt sweat drip down her face.

The orange strands disappeared with a hiss.

Aria swiveled her head between the healer and Hogwarts staff, all four of them staring at her with varying degrees of shock. Dumbledore began pulling on his beard as his shock turned pensive and a look Aria wasn't familiar with came over his face, clouding it.

" _Well_?" Kenneth demanded. "Is my daughter about to die or what?"

"No, she's not going to die," Healer Smith assured him. "But it certainly wasn't an act of accidental magic. Tell me, Miss Bourne, were you holding your wand when you released this magic?"

"Yes."

"And did you feel within you your magic swelling?"

"Yeah. I'd felt that feeling before when I was a kid and about to do accidental magic. Only this time I used the feeling to use the Stunning Charm. We haven't learned it yet, but I was scared and wanted to help try and take down the troll before it could swing that club."

"What may have begun as accidental magic didn't end that way," the healer told her. "When you recognized the feeling and grasped it, using it consciously to do what you wanted, you took control of your magical core while it was at a level of power you don't normally deal with. Because you consciously took control, your core will not shrink back to the state that it was. It will not wait for you to grow either."

"Are you saying she'll have to train as a first year with a magical core the size of a fully grown adult?" Professor Snape cried.

"Not quite fully grown. The hiss of the orange tells me that the core still has much growing left to do. But she'll be a first year training with a magical core that's the size of a fifth of sixth year. And I detected . . . well I'm not sure. Nothing harmful, I assure you, Miss Bourne hasn't been exposed to anything that'd harm her core, I'll have to do some more research." Healer Smith tapped his chin with his wand.

"If you apply yourself to your studies," he said to Aria, "and work on controlling your now oversized magical core, there's no doubt in my mind that you could be as powerful magically as your headmaster. As . . . well . . . dark and light wizards and witches certainly don't gain their followers by charisma alone."

An understanding went through the adult wizards and witch in the room. Aria raised an eyebrow before glancing at her dad who now looked certain that the healer had two heads.

"I believe Miss Bourne will be able to test for Grand Sorceress by the time she's twenty," Healer Smith added. He nodded to Kenneth. "Your daughter, if guided correctly, will be able to do amazing things."

"I think she does amazing things already," Kenneth answered, voice weak. "But then again I'm just a Muggle aren't I?" He sat beside Aria who sat up and snuggled against his side. She'd missed him. That was the downside of going to boarding school. Not seeing Dad every day.

"With your permission, Mr. Bourne, I'd like to monitor your daughter's progress through her seven years of Hogwarts," Healer Smith said. "The study of magical cores is still filled too much with theories. It'll also ensure that she remains healthy and strong, which she'll need to do in order to control such a core. Especially at eleven."

Kenneth glanced at Professor Snape.

"I'll ensure she isn't poked and prodded like a lab rat," Snape assured him.

Kenneth ran a hand over Aria's head.

"I think I'll be fine, Dad," she assured him. "Especially if Professor Snape's watching me."

"The great bat of the street," Kenneth murmured in her ear, making her laugh. "I don't think I'd trust you with anyone else."

"Very well," he said to the rest of the company. "Are there any papers that'll need signing? Consent and all that."

"I can go fetch some," Healer Smith said. "I'll return in a few moments." He disappeared into Madam Pomfrey's office.

"We'll leave you alone for now," Dumbledore said to Kenneth and Aria. "And Mr. Bourne, you're more than welcome to have lunch with us. Miss Bourne, you've been excused from classes for the next two days in order that your energy levels are strong enough for you to stay awake and alert during a full day of classes." The headmaster made for the doorway.

"Don't forget to inform your father of the _dynamics_ of Hogwarts and the houses," Snape reminded Aria. "Wouldn't want to catch him off guard." He swept off after the headmaster.

"What was that?" Kenneth asked.

"Remember how I told you that I wasn't getting along with some of the people in my house?" Aria asked. "I may not have told you the whole story."

"I figured. You never told me everything about what happened in primary either."

Aria's face grew warm.

"Well . . . there's this thing called Blood Purity. It's kind of like the time when Mr. Wilkes didn't like Mr. Li Wu because he wasn't Chinese, but based more off whether or not you're got magic in the family . . . instead of where you come from."

"Oh."

"Yeah. And I'm not exactly welcomed in some circles because I'm Muggleborn. There's Muggleborn, Half-Blood, and Pureblood. From what I've been told Half-Blood can be any combination of things, but a Pureblood is someone who's family doesn't have any Muggleborn or Half-Blood blood in their ancestry."

Kenneth frowned.

"That's stupid," he said. "I would have thought magic was magic. I guess there are stupid people everywhere."

"Yeah. Anyway, Slytherin's the house of ambition and cunning, but it's also the house that's notorious for pureblood bigots. I'm an anomaly. There's never been a Muggleborn in Slytherin before."

"I doubt that, Aria."

"It's true!"

"Isn't this school over a thousand years old? Surely there must be Muggleborns in Slytherin. Maybe they just were able to pretend they weren't."

Aria shook her head. Her dad would not understand.

"Anyway, when we go to lunch, that is . . . if Madam Pomfrey lets me out for lunch, you'll be a Muggle at the Slytherin table. The table whose founder was the original Blood Purist and the house of the most notorious Dark Lord of the UK this century."

"That would be . . . Voldemort right? I remember you mentioning something about him and one of your friends in a letter."

"Harry Potter. Voldemort tried to kill Harry as a baby but something went wrong and only Harry survived. I've been told that a lot of Voldemort's supporters have children in Slytherin. No one's been outright violent towards me, but I can feel their gazes. And Draco Malfoy's certainly let his mouth run wild. He was so nice when we met in Diagon Alley, I don't know what's changed."

Her dad wrapped an arm around her shoulders, kissing her head.

"Thanks for the warning," he said. "I'm sure we can handle it."

* * *

Madam Pomfrey agreed to let Aria go to lunch as long as she returned within three hours for a check-up. She threatened a monitoring spell if Aria didn't comply.

Aria pulled her dad out of the infirmary, pointing out the classrooms she had classes in and showing off the view from several windows.

"Where are we exactly?" Kenneth asked.

"Somewhere in Scotland."

"Huh. I've never been out of England before."

They made their way down towards the Great Hall. The staircase they were on began to move. Kenneth yelped, making Aria laugh.

"You sounded like a little baby!" she cried.

"A little baby?" Kenneth questioned. They managed to get off the stairs before he swept Aria off her feet, whirling her around as he held tightly to her around her waist. "I'll show you who sounds like a baby!"

"Dad!" Aria cried, laughing more. "Stop, put me down or we'll be late to lunch." Kenneth set her on her feet. She grabbed his hand, escorting him the rest of the way to the Great Hall where she was certain he would get a neck crick from staring at the ceiling which showed off the beautiful autumn day they were having.

"Aria!" Hermione's voice carried over the students and Aria tumbled over into her dad as her bushy haired friend wrapped her in a tight, suffocating hug.

"Hermione," Aria gasped out. "Choking on your hair."

Hermione giggled and released her.

"I was so worried," Hermione told her. "You burnt out your wand!"

"Yeah, don't remind me," Aria muttered, thinking of the wand still tucked away in the table drawer next to the bed she'd left. "Hermione, I'd like you to meet my dad. Dad, this is Hermione Granger."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Bourne," Hermione said, holding out her hand. Kenneth shook it.

"Come join us at the Slytherin table," Aria said to Hermione.

"Are we allowed to do that?"

"Well my dad's gonna be sitting there. Might as well take out as many people as we can."

Hermione linked arms with Aria and the three of them made their way to where Ron and Harry were sitting. The two boys greeted Aria with smiles, though they didn't hug like Hermione.

"This food looks amazing," Kenneth said as they served themselves. "At least I don't have to worry about them starving you."

Daphne, Theo, and Blaise appeared at that moment, settling by Aria and her friends.

"What are you doing here, Granger?" Theo asked.

"Eating lunch."

"Dad, meet three of my fellow first years: Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott, and Blaise Zabini. Guys, this is my dad."

The three purebloods muttered their hellos while Aria noted her announcement traveled down the Slytherin table. People began looking her way, even from the other tables.

"So what do your parents do?" Kenneth asked the children. "What sort of jobs are there in the wizarding world?"

"My dad works in the Ministry of Magic," Ron answered. "Misuse of Muggle Artifacts."

"Our parents have various business dealings," Daphne replied, motioning to herself and Theo. "They also sit on the Wizengamot which is like the . . . Muggle government I suppose."

"Parliament," Hermione supplied. "And my parents are dentists."

"Dentists?" Theo asked. "What's that?"

"They tend to people's teeth," Hermione replied. "Clean them, straighten them, pull them if necessary."

"Oral Healers," Blaise said. "That can be rather dangerous in the wizarding world. Is it in the Muggle?"

"Not really," Hermione replied. "Though once my dad was bit by Robbie Felton and had to get ten stitches in his hand."

"Stitches?" Theo questioned.

"Yes. It's how Muggles heal deep wounds. You take medical string and sew the skin together." Daphne, Theo, and Blaise reared back in disgust.

"That sounds _revolting_ ," Daphne cried.

"What's Granger doing at our table?" Draco demanded, cutting off any further conversation. "And what are you doing sitting with such riff-raff you three?"

"Well we were having a delightful conversation about Muggle medicine," Blaise replied. "And Granger's at our table because she was invited, I assume, by Bourne."

"Dad," Aria muttered, "meet Draco Malfoy. Malfoy, meet my dad."

"A pleasure to meet you, lad," Kenneth declared, standing and holding his hand out to the eleven year old. The boy turned startled us to Kenneth and, for a moment, it felt like the whole Great Hall froze. Aria held her breath. How would an eleven year old brat act towards a Muggle adult?

"A pleasure to meet me?" Draco repeated.

"But of course!" Kenneth replied. "It's always a pleasure to meet new people."

Aria gave her dad a disbelieving look. He hated doing anything where he was required to meet new people.

Slowly Draco extended his own hand, shaking Kenneth's hand. Aria shared a look of surprise with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Join us," Kenneth said to Draco, yanking Draco between Harry and Ron. "Tell me about yourself. This wizarding world is fascinating."


	9. Meeting the Board of Governors

**I do not own Harry Potter!**

That evening, after her dad had left, and Madam Pomfrey had officially discharged her from the infirmary, Aria joined her friends in the entry way in order to walk into dinner together. They were distracted, however, by the arrival of twelve wizards and witches dressed to the nines in official looking robes.

"Those are the school governors!" Ron whispered to Harry and Aria. "That white haired chap, that's Lord Abraxas Malfoy, Draco's grandfather. The lady taking the end of the line is Lady Longbottom."

"Relation to Neville?" Aria asked.

"His grandmother. She's scary as hell."

The children hurried after the group as the adults made their way to the Head Table. Aria, Ron, and Harry secured seats close enough to the Head Table that eavesdropping wasn't impossible.

"If I could have you attention!" Dumbledore called. The student voice fell away. "I would like to extend a warm welcome to the Hogwarts Board of Governors." He swept a hand towards the twelve newcomers, now seated. "Let us all show them a proper welcome."

Applause ran up and down the hall. Aria glanced over at Draco and was surprised to see how normal his clapping appeared. She'd expected him to be more enthusiastic and vocal about his grandfather.

"What do you think they're here for?" Aria asked.

"Maybe they're here to talk about the troll," Harry answered. "I can't see a troll being a situation the governors would let slide. Uncle Vernon's on Smelting's Board of Governors and he harps over the smallest things."

"Smeltings?" Aria questioned. "Who names a school Smeltings?"

"Maybe the same people who named this place Hogwarts," Harry answered. The two started laughing, drawing the attention of a few other Slytherins. Ron ignored them for the chicken he was piling onto his plate.

As dessert was finishing up the Board of Governors rose as one and followed Dumbledore out the side door. Professor Snape swept down to the floor of the Great Hall.

"Miss Bourne," he said, "your presence has been requested in the Headmaster's office. I will escort you."

"Maybe they'll expel you," Pansy laughed. "'cause you turned into a Squib."

Professor Snape leaned down and whispered something in Pansy's ear, making her face go pale. The older Slytherins, even those who'd started smiling at the girl's comment, ducked their heads.

"What's a Squib?" Aria asked once they'd left the Great Hall.

"The opposite of a Muggleborn," Snape replied. "Someone born without magic or very little to magical parents."

"What do you mean very little?"

"Most of the time Squibs have enough magic within them to see through spells that would normally confuse Muggles," Snape answered. "But their cores are too small that they can't perform magic."

"Are there many Squibs?"

"It's not something talked about."

"Why?"

"In the past, Squibs were seen as shameful. People use to kill off their Squib children. Nowadays it's highly frowned upon and most just quietly send them off to the Muggle world."

"That's sad," Aria murmured. "It'd be like Dad being shameful of me for being magical."

"Unfortunately, Miss Bourne, there have been many who passed through these halls who come from that sort of Muggleborn situation."

They arrived in front of a stone statue, carved into an elegant griffin with its wings spread and head held high.

"Blood Pops," Snape stated. The griffin shifted, standing on its feet, and moving over to allow them access to a door which opened to a staircase which led them to another door. At this door Snape knocked and the voice of Headmaster Dumbledore bade him enter.

"Miss Bourne," Snape stated, pushing Aria forward, following closely after her.

"Welcome," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Please, have a seat. Don't be alarmed by the Governors. They look more severe than they are."

Aria doubted that. Lord Malfoy looked like he'd swallowed something sour while Lady Longbottom seemed affronted by a trinket on Dumbledore's shelf. She settled in a high back chair. Did all headmasters have such chairs? The one at primary school had.

"What an insignificant looking child," Lord Malfoy drawled in a bored tone. "I expected something . . . substantial about her." Aria became quite aware of several of the Governors eying her obviously second-hand robes and uniform. She straightened, trying her best to appear unaffected by the stares.

"Abraxas, you weren't much to look at when you were eleven," Lady Longbottom retorted, turning from the shelf to stare at the man. "You're still not much to look at." She turned to Aria.

"I've heard of you," she said.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing, my lady?" Aria asked. Lady Longbottom laughed.

"At least you have manners, child. Lady Longbottom will do. And all good, I assure you. My grandson, Neville, has written about his friends in both Gryffindor and Slytherin."

"I think we've all heard of Aria Bourne," another witch said. "We're the ones, child, who make the decisions about scholarships. And well . . . a Muggleborn in Slytherin is not an everyday occurrence. My Olivia's a fifth year Hufflepuff and even she was surprised when she heard the news."

"Oh. Well . . . thanks for the scholarship. I really appreciate it." Aria smiled her brightest, it wouldn't do to be rude to these people if they were in charge of her scholarship money.

"We may need to give her more money if she's going to gallivant around with rags," another wizard muttered. Aria glanced at her robes.

"These aren't rags," she said. "Mr. Ditto even put growth charms on them so they'll last me through second year if I'm careful."

"Let us get down to why we're here," Lady Longbottom said, cutting off a snide remark that Lord Malfoy seemed about ready to give. "Tell us, Miss Bourne, your version of what happened the night of the troll."

Aria launched into her tale, leaving not a single detail out. Then she spoke about what Healer Smith had said, and Dumbledore and Snape collaborated with that bit of the tale. When she was finished numerous governors sat in their own chairs, astonishment clearly written on their faces.

"A remarkable tale!" Olivia's mother cried. "Such power has never been seen in one so young. I'm certain there have been those who've been close . . . but never in their first year."

"Remarkable as it is, it doesn't prove that Miss Bourne will be a strong witch," Lord Malfoy stated. "It just means that she will have to play catch-up with her magical core. It'll stagnate like the rest of ours. I doubt she'll be stronger than your average witch or wizard."

Aria bit her cheeks to keep from telling the man off.

"An average witch or wizard would've burned out their core entirely," Lady Longbottom snapped. "That's happened in our history, and certainly not to a child but with fully grown and trained wizards. Really, Abraxas, if you're going to be unpleasant you might as well leave."

Lord Malfoy fingered his left sleeve.

Lady Longbottom fingered her right sleeve.

Aria noticed Dumbledore and Snape reach for their wands. Was a fight going to break out?

"Gentlemen and ladies!" Dumbledore sternly drew their attention back to him. "Do set an example."

Neither Lady Longbottom or Lord Malfoy seemed ashamed of their actions, though they stopped fingering their sleeves.

"I think we're done with Miss Bourne for now," one of the witches said. "Though I suppose there is the matter of your wand."

"I have it here." Aria drew it out of her robe pocket. She'd gotten it from the infirmary. "It's ash with a unicorn hair. Or was." She gazed at it sadly. The wood now had a large crack in it that ran almost from end to end. The crack was charred along the edges and if one peered closely, the unicorn hair could be seen singed and dull.

The Board of Governors leaned forward. Several members seemed surprise that she'd been telling the truth about her wand.

"Well it's clear she'll need a wand," Lady Longbottom declared. "I don't see why we cannot authorize money for her this minute." The other governors slowly agreed with much muttering and mumbling.

"I'll contact Ollivander," Dumbledore stated. "I'll send the bill to Gringotts. Miss Bourne, I believe your presence is no longer required. You may go." Aria nodded, waved to the governors, and slipped through the door. She pressed an ear against the wood.

"How'd the troll get into the school?" she heard someone demand.

"I'm currently trying to discover that."

"Don't try and make less of this, Dumbledore," Lord Malfoy snapped. "The Board knows how the wards work, even if we don't hold them ourselves. The wards should have alerted you when the troll came onto the grounds. It never should've reached the castle at all. Think about all the heirs that could have been lost!"

"Really, Abraxas," Lady Longbottom scolded, "there are more than just pureblood heirs in this school. Don't make a snide remark about it either. We all know your opinions and we can wait another five hundred years before we hear them."

Hearing footsteps approach the door, Aria sprinted down the steps, almost slipping off the last one in her haste. She hurried off to find her friends. Wouldn't they be interested to know what she'd heard.

* * *

"Are you sure you heard correctly?" Hermione asked the next day after Aria related what she'd heard to her. Aria, Hermione, Ron, and Harry were chancing the now bitterly cold day to speak in private. "I mean, that implies something doesn't?"

"Against the headmaster? It certainly sounded like it, but maybe not. I don't know what wards are."

"Sure you do," Ron said. "Wards are the reason why your dad had to wear that amulet in order to see Hogwarts. Usually they're erected to protect things."

"There's a whole section on wards in _Hogwarts, A History_ ," Hermione stated. Aria was reminded that she needed to read this book. "But it only listed some of the wards, wards that Hogwarts has that have fallen out of fashion. The author noted it'd be stupid to talk about all the wards because then people could break them."

"My eldest brother, Bill, is a cursebreaker for Gringotts," Ron added. "He works a lot with wards as they're tied to curses a lot of times."

"Well I'm certain at what I heard," Aria declared.

"Then that means the troll was already on the school grounds and the headmaster did nothing to stop it," Harry cried.

"Or the wards are broken," Hermione added.

"Wards don't just break," Ron said. "They wear away after some time, but that takes years, and Hogwarts renews its wards every year. Bill helped do so one summer when he was training for his cursebreaking license."

"Well it's odd," Aria stated. "We can all agree on that. Can we go back inside? My butt's nearly frozen." They scurried back inside, nearly colliding with Professor Snape as they came back into the castle.

"What were you doing outside on a day like today?" Snape demanded. "I would hate for any of you to fall ill and die."

"People do not die of colds," Aria replied. "And we wanted a bit of fresh air."

"Miss Bourne, may I remind you that you are still recovering from great magical exhaustion and that until you're at one hundred percent your immune system is liable for all sorts of diseases. Shall I send you to the infirmary until you're at that one hundred percent mark?"

"No, sir!"

"Then I suggest you keep a check on that mouth of yours."

"Yes, sir." Aria glanced sheepishly at her friends. Harry and Ron didn't look at Snape while Hermione appeared frozen, like a deer in headlights. Snape brushed by them.

"I swear, sometimes I think you have a death wish," Ron told Aria.

"He likes me," Aria answered.

"Snape doesn't like anybody," Harry said. "Not really."

"He likes me."

"Well, regardless of whether or not Professor Snape likes anybody, I'm going to get some reading done before dinner," Hermione stated. "So if you don't mind, I'm leaving." She headed off towards the Gryffindor common room.

"All she ever does is read," Ron muttered as the three made their way to their common room. "We've got to get her into something. She'd be a good chess player."

"She would be, but I don't see chess being something she'd want to play," Aria answered. "At least not Wizard's Chess." She recalled the chess match Ron and Theo had had in the common room a few weeks ago, and how the pieces moved by voice command and actually physically destroyed other pieces. Ron and Theo had been horrified to learn how Muggles played.

"What about a club?" Harry asked. "There's all those posters on the bulletin board? We could join with her."

"We'd have to make sure it wasn't an academic club," Ron said.

"Why not?" Aria asked.

"Because what's the point of getting Hermione to go extra activities to spread her wings when the activities are all academic?"

"Because then it's more likely she'd say yes?" Aria answered. "But let's take a look and see what's offered before we make any final decisions."

They offered the password to Salazaar who swung his portrait open. They had just entered the common room proper when one of the seventh years, Richards, the boy with all the conspiracy theories, gave a cry of surprise.

"Someone's broken into Gringotts!" he cried. All heads turned to him.

"What's that mean?" Prudence demanded. "No one breaks into Gringotts! I hear they turn to stone when they try and steal things."

"According to _The Evening Prophet_ , someone broke into Vault 731 on October 28th, but that the goblins only confirmed it today."

"Probably embarrassed that they didn't catch the thief," someone muttered.

"Does it say what they stole?" Tyson Turner asked.

"No," Richards answered. "Just that the vault had been emptied earlier during the summer."

"Then it wasn't a very bright thief," Prudence sneered, turning back to her _Witches Weekly_ magazine. "Trying to steal from an empty vault."

"Unless they didn't know it was empty," Harry whispered to Ron and Aria. "When Hagrid took me to Gringotts, we stopped at Vault 731 and Hagrid got a small package. Said it was for Dumbledore."

Aria frowned. What had Hagrid picked up that was so important?

"Do you know what it was?" Ron whispered back.

"No. Hagrid wouldn't tell me, but it was wrapped in brown paper and the size of my hand." Aria and Ron glanced at Harry's hands. "He was very secretive about it."

"Seems a bit abnormal for Hagrid," Aria said. "He doesn't strike me as a person who could keep a secret. Kinda like Pansy, but in a more innocent manner."

The three glanced over at Pansy who was holding court with a bored Daphne.

"Yeah, Pansy would spill secrets just to be mean," Ron answered. "Or to get her way." The three made their way to the common room's bulletin board, intent on focusing on their original intention of finding Hermione an extracurricular activity.

"Charms Club?" Aria suggested.

"What about the Gobstones League?" Ron questioned.

"What's Gobstones?"

"It's a wizarding game played with stones."

"I think we got that much," Harry answered with a laugh.

"Well I'm not very good at it. Exploding Snap's more my thing. That's a card game if you must know."

Aria tapped her chin, eyes roving over the notices pinned above her.

"Herbology Club?" she suggested. "Neville's in that one so there's one person we already are on good terms with."

"What about the Astrology Association?" Harry asked. "It says it's for first to fifth years. Then sixth and seventh years can join the Astrology Fellowship depending on their O.W.L.S."

"A distinct possibility," Aria agreed. "Hermione would like the idea of having to prove herself worthy for the Astrology Fellowship. Plus, isn't astrology the stories of the stars and not just the movement like in astronomy? Let's do it. Look, it's got a meeting tonight, and we've only missed one week so we shouldn't be too far behind whatever they're doing."


	10. A New Wand

**I do not own Harry Potter! All wand information comes off Pottermore.**

 **Thank you all for your wonderful comments, I greatly appreciate them.**

The Astrology Association had, surprisingly, been really interesting. Aria only ever saw Professor Sinistra on Wednesdays at eleven o'clock for class, and so hadn't realized just how enthusiastic the witch was for her subject and all the sub-subjects that went with it.

Professor Sinistra had welcome Aria, Harry, Ron, and Hermione with a wide smile before introducing them to the others within the association. She's pointed out the sixth and seventh years, but it seemed they were preparing to do some sort of research project and so mainly ignored everyone else.

Aria wasn't surprised that the group was dominated by the other three houses, but was glad to see a group of Slytherin fourth year boys and one sixth year Slytherin girl. At least she, Harry, and Ron wouldn't be odd men out.

The Astrolgy Association was set up in such a way that each year built up. First years were to be introduced to the legends surrounding the stars, focusing on Europe until Christmas, then Asia and the Oceania area the next. Second years focused on Africa and the Americas while third years began learning the methods of astrology in all areas of the world starting with Europe, then Asia/Oceania, Africa, and the Americas. It was then that Aria found out that in third year students were given elective courses and that Arthimancy and Ancient Runes were highly encouraged in the Astrology Association.

Fourth and fifth years further learned the methods of astrology, actually trying to predict things using the knowledge they knew and were gaining. Sixth years did an independent research project as did the seventh years, but the seventh years had the option of applying to the Astrologer's Guild, using their research project as their application.

All this, while certainly exciting and more than interesting for Aria, had sent Hermione into a tizzy and she started throwing out questions to Professor Sinistra who was more than happy to answer them.

"We've created a monster," Ron muttered.

"I think it's cool," Aria replied. "Besides, coming to one meeting doesn't mean you're in this until the end. You don't have to come back if you don't want to. There was the Chess Club. Theo does that."

"Oh yeah!"

Harry settled in one of the cushy seats offered in the Lounge, where the meeting was being held. To Aria, the room appeared to have been a classroom at one point as school desks dotted the room, though someone (probably Professor Sinistra) had made it homely by adding squashy armchairs, sofas, and bookshelves filled with books. Along one wall were windows where a few telescopes were stationed, and tucked in one corner was a door that led to a stairwell that led out to the astronomy tower stairs.

Aria poured herself tea from the drinks table.

Eventually Professor Sinistra called a halt to Hermione's questions and pulled the first years to one side to begin their first lesson in astrology.

The next morning Aria was delighted to find an owl swoop towards her at the morning mail delivery. A package was attached to its leg, so she made sure to feed it some extra bacon before letting it fly off.

"What's in the package?" Ron asked.

"Dunno," Aria answered, tearing open the wrapping. A cookie tin was revealed and she opened it, finding within walnut cookies and a note.

 _Your dad said you had been sick. These are for when you're better._

 _PS. I baked the cookies, so don't worry._

 _Melinda_

Underneath Melinda's name were Robert, Tommy, and Samuel's. It appeared Robert had written a note too, but someone (probably Melinda) had scribbled it out. She took a cookie and popped it in her mouth.

"Want a cookie?" she asked, holding out the tin to her fellow first years. Ron and Harry immediately took one.

"What are they?" Blaise asked.

"Walnut cookies."

"Are they good?" Pansy demanded.

"I think so, but since they were handmade by a Muggle they could be potentially poisonous to purebloods. Ron's fine because he's a ginger and they don't have souls anyway."

Ron frowned.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

Theo, Blaise, and Daphne took cookies.

Pansy scowled at Aria and turned her nose up.

Draco appeared like he wanted one but was too stubborn or too prideful to take one. Aria put one on his plate anyway before tucking the cookie tin into her school bag.

Melinda made excellent walnut cookies.

She shared some with Hermione and Neville in Herbology. During DADA Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott split a cookie between them as it seemed they weren't big fans of cookies.

Near the end of DADA Aria noticed Harry rubbing his forehead, as he often did while taking Professor Quirrell's class. Granted, the smell of garlic was overwhelming, but surely this far into the school year the smell shouldn't bother Harry anymore. He always got headaches in DADA.

Afterwards when they were free of the garlic smelling classroom, Aria brought it up.

"Why don't you go have Madam Pomfrey look at you," she suggested to Harry. "Getting headaches in only one class every day isn't normal."

"I don't want to be a bother," Harry replied. "Besides, I don't want to be any more abnormal than I already am."

"You're not abnormal," Ron insisted. "You're just famous. There's a difference."

"Well I already have to go for my check-up," Aria reminded him. "Just come with me."

Harry frowned, thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"No. It's going away now anyway. You go. We'll see you after your check-up. Hopefully you're core's grown enough that Madam Pomfrey will let Dumbledore call Ollivander."

Aria crossed her fingers in hope before turning off towards the infirmary.

Within Madam Pomfrey was just handing a potion to a coughing fourth year Ravenclaw. The boy swallowed the potion, steam blowing out of his ears seconds later. Aria gaped.

"Pepper-Up Potion," Pomfrey stated, noticing Aria. "Excellent for the common cold. Not quite a cure, but it certainly lasts longer than Muggle drugs I'm told. Come, let me take a look at you." Aria sat down on another bed while the Ravenclaw hurried out of the infirmary. The mediwitch waved her wand over Aria. The first year held her breath.

"You're core seems to be almost restored," Madam Pomfrey declared. Aria whooped. "I'll inform the Headmaster and hopefully Mr. Ollivander will be able to come soon."

"Thank you!" Aria cried. "Can I go?"

"Yes, yes." Aria hurried from the infirmary, a distinct spring in her step.

Passing the corridor leading to the headmaster's office, Aria paused, hearing the tell-tale signs of crying. She peered down the corridor and discovered a small alcove tucked away almost out of sight. Looking in her eyes widened at seeing Percy Weasley sitting on the stone bench within the alcove, quietly crying into his school robe.

"Percy?" she almost whispered. The older boy's head shot up and he hurried to wipe his tears away, managing to send his glasses eschew. "Are you all right?"

"Aria!" Percy chuckled, through it sounded wet and weak. "I'm fine."

That was a lie. Aria shuffled into the alcove, sitting next to the prefect, and dug out of her tin of walnut cookies. She opened it and held the tin out, offering the delicious homemade morsels to the boy. Percy sniffed, laughed again, though more genuine this time, and took a cookie.

Aria decided another one wouldn't hurt.

The two sat munching on the cookies for a moment, silent in their own thoughts.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Aria asked. "Do you want me to go get one of your brothers? Fred and George? Ron?"

"No!" Percy cried. "The twins would have a field day, their 'Perfect Prefect' all bothered. And I can't let Ron see me like this."

"Why not?"

"I'm his big brother. I have to be strong for him so that he knows he can come to me if he ever has a problem. I can't be a good brother if he thinks I'm unable to help."

"Rubbish," Aria answered. "Hasn't he lived with you his whole life? Surely he knows that you've got your weak spots, just like he does. Just like we all do." She gave Percy another cookie.

"I don't want any of my brothers seeing me like this," Percy stated firmly, pulling a handkerchief from a pocket and wiping his face before devouring the second cookie. "I can't believe _you've_ seen me like this!"

"I promise I won't tell, if that's what you're worrying about," Aria replied. Percy gave a stiff nod.

"Thanks for being friends with Ron," Percy said. "I've noticed he's really come out of his shell."

"I didn't think he ever had one," Aria answered. "He was very friendly on the train. Quiet and all, but then again, so am Harry and I. I guess we just sort of fit together. In more ways than one."

"What do you mean?"

"Well. We're sort of the outsiders in Slytherin aren't we? A Weasley, a Dark Lord defeater, and a Muggleborn. Not quite the people one pegs for Slytherin. Or so I've been told. I told my dad all about these stereotypes in one of my letters home and he laughed, saying everyone had a bit of everything in them. It's what one decides to pursue and how they do it that's the key to character. Whatever that means."

"I think your dad was trying to say that we all have a bit of the four houses in us," Percy said, taking a third cookie. "My grandfather said the same thing when he wrote to us about Ron's sorting. Weasleys are notorious for being Gryffindors, but he did point out that we've had Slytherin ancestors too. Usually married into the family, but still Slytherin."

He finished the third cookie.

"Still, Ron hasn't always been so reserved. He use to be more hot-tempered. Boisterous. Then I came home from Hogwarts one year and he wasn't. You've been good for him, Aria Bourne. You, Harry, and Hermione. Actually, you've been good for her too. She's not got a lot of friends in Gryffindor. Some of them feel she's more Ravenclaw than Gryffindor."

"Well, if we've all got bits of the four houses in us, then surely the Hat must have thought bravery played a more important role for Hermione than books do," Aria said.

"Yeah. Maybe you're right." Percy took a fourth cookie, nibbling on it. Aria slipped the cookie tin into his bag which lay haphazardly at his feet. He didn't notice.

"I'll see you around?" she questioned, feeling like Percy now wanted to be left alone. Percy hummed, nodding. Aria quietly slipped away.

* * *

Ollivander came to Hogwarts that evening after dinner. He opened a bag and proceeded to summon dozens of wand boxes from its depths. For a moment Aria was certain she was watching Mary Poppins. She even glanced inside the bag to find it normal sized inside.

Tricky.

Professor Snape snorted at Aria's aweness from his desk where he sat correctly essays.

"Eleven inches, unicorn hair, ash," Ollivander muttered, eyeing Aria. "Your story has taken me by surprise, certainly, Miss Bourne. I've brought some of my oldest and some of my strongest wands in hopes that you'll find a new wand that'll last you at least until you've graduated."

"I can't just get a new unicorn and ash wand?"

"Not necessarily. Each wand is different, even if they are made with the same combination. I have one here if you wish to try it. It's ten inches instead of eleven."

Aria took the wand, but it felt slimy in her hand so she dropped it as quickly as she could.

"I didn't think so."

Ollivander pulled out a dark wood wand, handing it over.

"Yew, dragon heartstring, eleven inches." Aria grabbed it, immediately feeling as if she'd touched a hot stove. She dropped the wand with a yelp.

"Certainly not!" Ollivander cried. He tut-tutted and wandered his eyes over the boxes he'd brought. In the next ten minutes, Aria tried various combinations: yew and unicorn, holly and dragon heartstring, poplar and phoenix, among many others from trees Aria had never even heard of. She even tried a cherry wand with dragon heartstring which all but flew out of her hand.

That rejection felt personal.

"Well you were difficult when you first came into my shop," Ollivander admitted. "And if could be that the wands know that you're too small for your magical core. Temperamental things, wands, sometimes. Ah, try this. Elm, unicorn hair, ten inches."

Aria took hold of this one. This time, to her immense relief, she felt warmth travel up her arm from the wand, and green sparks shot from the tip.

"An excellent wand!" Ollivander cried, packing away all the rejected wands with a wave of his own. "Good for charms, and I mean sophisticated charms, not just mundane washing dishes magic. You know, it's an unfounded belief that elm wands only work for purebloods."

"Really?" Aria asked, admiring her new wand. There were even leaf designs on the handle.

"Yes. Some idiot probably trying to discredit Muggleborns made it up no doubt. No wand maker will ever give that rumor any truth, and if they do, then you can be sure that that wand maker is a thief and liar and will swindle you out of your money for terrible quality wands."

Ollivander bowed to Snape. "I shall see my way out."

Aria tried several spells with her new wand, happy with how easily her magic flowed up her arm and out the wand.

"It's perfect!" she declared.

"I'm glad," Snape replied. "Now leave my office so that I may correct in peace."

"What insults have you added to my essay?" Aria asked, bounding over to the desk, feeling very happy. "Or have you not graded mine yet? Am I beating Hermione at least?"

"Cease! Go!"

"But what about my essay?"

"You passed with excellent marks as usual, though I did have to make a note about your less than stellar handwriting."

"Quills are idiotic."

"Perhaps some more time practicing would do you some good. Now go."

"But did I beat Hermione at least? I know she's going to beat me at most of my other subjects, but I particularly like this class mainly because I know you're not as big of a bat as everyone else makes you out to be."

"Miss Bourne!"

"Mr. Snape." Aria grinned at her professor and was glad to see that there was some semblance of amusement in his dark eyes. He was always so dour, what had happened to him in the past to make him so? Her dad readily admitted that when he and Severus went to primary together, that many weren't kind to the boy, but then again, most Spinner's End kids got picked on in primary.

"I believe you and Miss Granger are very close. To what extent, I cannot tell you. _Now go_."

Aria hummed happily, racing out of the office to go show off her new wand.


	11. Of Mirrors and Macaroons

November passed. Too soon for the liking of the students, Dead Week was upon them. At first Aria had thought it rather ominous and that perhaps the wizarding world had some sort of death ritual before Christmas (or Yule if one followed the Old Religion), but it was quickly explained to her by Marcus Flint that Dead Week was the week before finals and finals happened the week before Christmas.

She was beginning to understand why the students lovingly called it Dead Week.

The Great Hall had become a meeting place for various inter-house study groups, most of them sixth and seventh years as those classes were more mixed between the houses.

Aria and Hermione had gotten a large group of Slytherin and Gryffindor first years to study several subjects together as they were taking the tests at the same time. Aria was pleased to see that, besides Neville and Hermione, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan had joined their study group. It appeared that the girls in Hermione's dorm didn't want to associate with Slytherins.

Also to her delight, several other Slytherins joined their group. Theo, Daphne, and Blaise came, though Blaise insisted it was because he knew if he could copy Hermione's notes he'd pass.

Hermione sat as far from him as possible.

Halfway through the study session revising their DADA notes, Draco appeared, school bag slung over his shoulder, gray eyes darting about as if he were afraid something was going to jump out at him.

"What are you all doing?" he demanded.

"Defense," Harry answered.

"And if you can keep your snooty comments to yourself, you're welcome to join," Aria added, handing Dean's text book back to him.

"Or if you've brought food," Seamus called down the table. He'd arrived bag loaded with food from the kitchens.

Draco reached into his school bag and pulled out a box.

" _La Petite_ Macaroons?" Daphne cried.

"My mother was just in Paris," Draco answered. "She sent me two dozen."

"Is this a peace offering," Ron questioned. "Where are your . . . others?"

"They don't care for studying," Draco answered. "Can I join you or not?"

"Whatever," Aria muttered, shoving Harry down so that Draco could squeeze between her and Harry. He opened the box of macaroons, letting Aria take the first pick. She peered at the pastry, sorted in various colors. She picked one labeled _Dragonfruit_ which was a pinkish-red, sweet to her tongue, and absolutely divine.

"Sweet mother of Jesus," she cried. "This is amazing."

"You've never had a macaroon?" Hermione cried. Aria shook her head.

"Neither have I," Harry said, taking a chocolate one. "My aunt loves them though." His eyes rolled back into his head as he bit into his sweet. Draco was more than appalled that neither of them had ever had a macaroon before and let them have another. Aria chose pistachio.

* * *

Aria awoke on Christmas morning to find a pile of presents at the foot of her bed. Grinning she crawled to the edge of the bed and tore into the presents. From her dad she got school supplies like parchment, ink, and new quills. From Hermione she received her own copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ , which made her laugh. Maybe now she'd get around to reading it.

Ron had gotten her a box of chocolates and Harry had given her warm mittens. Neville had gotten her a book on wizarding etiquette.

As she stared around at the gifts, her stomach flipped. Would her friends like her gift? Which was really nothing more than homemade cards that she'd convinced Professor Flitwick to animate. She only had two Galleons left and wouldn't receive her second half for first year until the week before classes began.

Climbing off her bed, a small box wrapped in red paper fell from the folds of her blankets. Curious at her last Christmas present, Aria scooped it up. There wasn't a note or anything. Odd.

Setting it down, Aria went about dressing and getting herself ready for the day. She grabbed her wand and the red box before heading downstairs where she found Harry already waiting.

"Ready?" he asked. He stepped to the bottom of the stairs leading to the boy's dormitory.

"RON!" he shouted. "Aria's ready!"

Seconds later Ron came running down the stairs, two packages in his arms.

"These are from my mum," he said, thrusting them at Harry and Aria. "They've been in my trunk for weeks."

Eagerly, Aria tore open the brown paper and gasped at the beautiful hand-knitted sweater that she pulled out, a deep emerald color with a silver A on the front. She immediately slipped it on before realizing that Ron wore a similar sweater but with an R. One look at Harry showed Aria he's gotten one with an H.

"It's wonderful!" Aria cried. "I'll write immediately to your mum and thank her."

"No need to do that," Ron cried, face and ears turning red. "It's just . . . Weasley sweaters are what she always makes for us. Each of us kids have one for each Christmas we've been here. Dad's got one too."

"Does she send one to your grandparents?" Aria asked, remembering Ron's description of his rather old-fashioned grandfather.

"I . . . don't know. I've never seen Grandfather wear one, though that doesn't mean Mum hasn't tried." The three left the Slytherin common room, trekking across the castle to the Gryffindor tower where the portrait of the Fat Lady glared at them while they knocked and waited for one of Ron's brothers to let them in.

Percy answered, looking very flushed and angry.

"Come in," he snapped. Then, "Fred! George! They're here. Give me my prefect badge!"

Fred and George tossed Percy his badge, grins on their faces.

"I see you two go the usual Weasley sweaters," Fred said.

"It basically means Mum's adopted you," George added.

"Honorary Weasleys!" the twins shouted, digging their knuckles into Harry and Aria's heads. Harry yelped while Aria managed to get an elbow into George's stomach before scampering off to the couch in front of the fire, rubbing her sore head and glaring at the unrepentant twins. Harry joined her, wearing the most betrayed look of anyone who'd had to suffer a noogie.

"Enough!" Percy told the twins sternly. "We're here to celebrate Christmas not scare away our brother's friends."

Ron glared at the twins at that thought.

After a few minutes breakfast popped into existence on one of the larger tables in the Gryffindor Common Room, complete with plates and silverware. The children heaped their plates with the hot, wonderful smelling food before settling in front of the fireplace to eat.

"So what do we want to do to celebrate Christmas?" Fred asked. "Snowball fight?"

"Isn't McGonagall thinking about banning you two from such things?" Aria asked. "You did throw snowballs at the back of Professor Quirrell's turban."

"She just can't take a joke," George answered.

Aria shifted on the couch, felt something poke her leg, and reached into her pocket, pulling out the red box she'd found on her bed.

"I forgot about this," she muttered.

"Who's it from?" Ron asked.

"Don't know. It hasn't got a name."

"Well . . . ." Percy grabbed the box and ran his wand over it, muttering several spells. "There's no jinxes or curses that I can tell. That was a detection spell, but only for childish things that you only learn in your first few years of Hogwarts."

"Like anyone would try and curse Aria," Ron cried.

"Don't be so sure," Percy warned. "She is a Muggleborn in the nest of snakes, and while nothing's happened _yet_ , there may be those in Slytherin biding their time."

"Like Draco," Aria teased Ron. "He's probably waiting until he's taller than me so that it can be a fair fight." She ripped the paper off and found a plain box underneath. Lifting the top she frowned, confused.

Why was someone giving her macaroons?

"Macaroons?" Fred and George cried.

"Dragonfruit and pistachio," Aria said, lifting a small card. It was typeset.

"Who'd give you macaroons?" Percy asked. Aria shrugged. Ron and Harry made dramatic humming noises, making everyone look at them.

"Have something to share with the class?" Aria questioned.

" _Well_ . . . ." Ron pulled out.

"Malfoy was the one to introduce you to macaroons," Harry said. "And you made quite a showing of loving the dragonfruit and pistachio ones."

Aria blinked once. Twice.

Then burst out laughing.

She laughed until her sides hurt and her sides ached.

"Don't be daft!" she cried, wiping her eyes clear. "Draco Malfoy, giving me a Christmas gift? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. He wasn't the only one who ate macaroons that day. It could've been Daphne or Theo who left me the gift. Blaise even. Malfoy! What a thought!" She struggled to control her laughter, but it took several minutes, in which time she packed away for macaroons for later and managed to finish her first helping of breakfast.

* * *

With much of the castle empty, and only having to report at meal times, Aria and her two friends were able to explore Hogwarts in better detail than during the busy school year. They discovered many empty classrooms with furniture draped with dusty sheets, classrooms filled with cobwebs in the corner and forgotten chalk and instructions written on the chalkboard.

Several times they tried to dare each other to go to the forbidden third floor corridor, but just the thought of the wrath of Snape made them cowards and they went off to find new adventures.

Two days before the term started they stumbled upon a large room that had benches against the walls, but no other furniture except for a draped object in the center of the room. Ron yanked the sheet off, sending dust flying. Aria, Harry, and Ron coughed and hacked as they cleared the air by waving their hands frantically in front of their faces.

Before them stood a towering mirror, ornate metal carvings surrounding the glass with strange words at the top. Aria decided to try and decipher the words later. The mirror, the glass, seemed to draw her and her friends forward. She peered into the depths of the glass . . . and gasped.

There she stood in her Weasley sweater and jeans, but behind her, standing at each shoulder, were her parents. There was her mum, looking alive and well and healthy! She peered over her shoulders, only to find Ron and Harry standing on either side, looking just as shocked at the reflection as she.

"What is this witchcraft?" she cried.

"I dunno," Ron muttered. "But I like it."

"Ron!" Aria cried.

"What? I think I'd make a good Quidditch captain and Head Boy."

Aria and Harry frowned.

"What do you mean by that?" Aria asked. "I see myself and my mum and dad. Harry, what do you see?"

Harry was silent for a few seconds.

"I see my parents too," he finally said. "And I think, behind them, are my ancestors. We're family."

"We're seeing different things?" Ron questioned.

"It'd appear so," Aria muttered, turning her attention to the strange words above their heads at the top of the mirror. _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._

"Is it Welsh?" Ron asked.

"How would any of us know that?" Aria answered. "This is obviously a powerful magical object. We should go to the library and try and find out what it is." She glanced longingly at her mum. Her mother smiled sweetly and even placed a hand on the shoulder of her reflection. She felt the beginning of tears prick her eyes and she hurried to turn away, even though she didn't want to.

"Personally I don't see what good this mirror is," she stated. "If the only thing it can show me is my dead mother." She ran from the room, Ron and Harry following behind. Aria did her best to keep the tears inside, she didn't want to cause a scene even if the castle was basically abandoned. If only she could have stood in front of the mirror forever and see her mother. If only her family hadn't been broken with such finality.

Harry slung an arm over her shoulder.

"It's okay," he whispered. "I wish I could've staid and looked at my parents too."

Later that night Aria slipped from the Slytherin dormitory and retraced her steps from that afternoon, keeping to the shadows to avoid an encounter with Filch and Mrs. Norris. Once she reached her destination she wasted no time in standing in front of the mirror, lighting her wand, and staring not just at the image of her mother, but at the garbled language up above.

Everything about the mirror felt old. Her magical core tingled the closer she stood to the mirror, giving her an uneasy feeling that which she tried to ignore because _her mother_ was standing in front of her.

Breath shaking, Aria reached out with a hand, fingers ghosting over the mirror's glass. It was almost like, if she could reach through the glass, she'd be able to touch her mother once more.

"What a surprise to find you here, Miss Bourne."

Aria whirled about with a yell, almost tripping over the fallen sheet that had once covered the mirror. Headmaster Dumbledore held up his hands in the universal sign of peace before dropping them and coming to stand beside Aria in front of the mirror.

"You shouldn't be here, Miss Bourne," Dumbledore said. "It's far past your bedtime."

"I know," Aria murmured.

"I have this particular room monitored with spells," Dumbledore told her, "as it houses a rather powerful object. This, Miss Bourne, is the Mirror of Erised. Do you know what it does?"

"It shows us things," Aria answered, glancing into the mirror and at her mother's smiling face. "Things we want."

"Things we _desire_ , young lady," the headmaster corrected. "I may want something, but that which I desire is always strongest in the heart and mind."

Aria glanced at the words at the top of the mirror and, suddenly, the words were no longer garbled.

"This mirror shows us what our heart desires," she said.

"Very good, Miss Bourne. Very good. Now you know why I had a ward on this room. A mirror such as this is a powerful artifact."

"Then why have it here at Hogwarts at all where we students can come across it?"

"Because most students do not have the fortitude you and your friends have when it comes to exploring the castle. And Hogwarts has a habit of changing up its unused parts. Why, just the other night I was out on my late night walk and I came across a lavatory that I didn't realize was there. The next day I went back to that same spot and it was gone."

Aria blinked sadly at her mother.

"What's the point of a mirror like this?" she asked. "Some desires can't be given or achieved." She thought of Ron's innocent desire to be Head Boy and Quidditch Captain, how different and naive it seemed compared to her's and Harry's.

"No. But perhaps looking upon the desire's of the heart can help one see their life in perspective. Or teach a lesson. Who knows what the creators of the mirror were thinking?"

Aria felt tears prick her eyes. What a foolish thing it'd been, coming back. Her mother was dead and staring at a mirror wasn't going to change it. Being told her mother was her greatest desire was no surprise, it only made Aria long for her more.

"I'm sorry, sir," Aria cried. "I don't want to be here anymore. Nothing good can come from this mirror." She grabbed the sheet and flung it back over the mirror. Her mother disappeared.

"Men far older than you have wasted away in front of this mirror," Dumbledore murmured, stroking his bear. "It is addictive, staring into the depths of your desire."

"It's also very sad," Aria sad. "Because my mother is dead and no matter how hard I desire her, I won't ever have her."

Dumbledore waved an arm towards the door and the two exited. Dumbledore closed the door and waved his wand over the wood. Aria hear the snick of the lock sliding into place.

"Sir?" Aria asked as the two of them walked down the hall. "What did you see, when you looked into the mirror?" What could one of the greatest (supposedly) wizards of all time desire the most?

Dumbledore smiled.

"When I look in the mirror, I see myself wearing the warmest pair of brightly colored wool socks."

"Wool socks?"

"Yes. Everyone seems to think I want books, but all I really want is a nice pair of socks. You can never have too many pairs."

Somehow, that didn't seem false. It also didn't sound like the truth either. But at his age, Aria supposed, one could never be sure.

She bid the headmaster goodnight at the top of the stairs leading to the dungeons and, using her wand, lit her way through the dark corridors back to the dormitory where she climbed back into her bed, but didn't fall asleep until dawn was beginning to break.


	12. Discovery

**I do not own Harry Potter!**

The Transfiguration classroom doors burst open. Breathing heavily, Hermione and Neville stumbled into the classroom, distracting everyone from the beginning of Professor McGonagall's lecture. The Head of Gryffindor's mouth thinned as she peered disapprovingly over the top of her spectacles.

"And may I ask where you two have been?" the woman demanded.

"One – one of the st-staircases changed on us," Hermione gasped out, slumping into an empty seat. "We came as fast as we could."

"Hmph. Now, as I was saying . . . ."

Aria glanced across the aisle as Hermione pulled out her parchment, quill and ink, and her notebook. The girl wasn't just breathing heavily, but her entire body shook. Aria tore a piece of parchment in half and quickly scribbled on it.

 _What's the matter?_

She folded it and, when McGonagall wasn't looking, tossed it across the aisle so that it landed on Hermione's now open textbook. Hermione gave her an annoyed look before opening the note and scribbling an answer back.

 _Nothing's the matter. I'm just upset I'm late for class._

Aria rolled her eyes at the answer.

 _Don't lie to a Slytherin. It doesn't end well. You've been scared._

 _Did someone threaten you? Who do I need to hex? Was it Terry Boot_

 _from Ravenclaw? He's got a nasty mouth._

Hermione was not amused about their continued conversation.

 _Later, Aria. AND YOU WILL NOT HEX ANYONE!_

What a right spoil-sport Hermione could be!

After class Aria shoved everything into her book bag and hovered over Hermione as she managed to place everything neatly into her bag. Hermione rolled her eyes at her antics.

"Spill," Aria ordered as they left the classroom, Harry, Ron, and Neville trailing behind.

"The staircase did move on us," Hermione said. "Except that it landed Neville and I on the forbidden third floor corridor. Then as we were starting to go around Mrs. Norris appeared and we knew Filch wasn't going to listen to us about the stairs so we ran and ended up in a room."

"It was scary!" Neville insisted.

"Inside the room was a Cerberus," Hermione continued.

"Hold on, a what?" Ron cried.

"A Cerberus," Hermione repeated. "You know, the three-headed dog from Greece? It's in our Care of Magical Creatures book and in several Greek myths. Even Muggles know about it."

"Anyway," Aria cut Hermione's lecture short. "What happened then?"

"Well, it snarled at us. Slobbered dreadfully. Neville and I screamed and we ran off. Thankfully the Mrs. Norris was gone and we ran the rest of the way here."

"Shouldn't a dog be outside?" Harry asked.

"We have a three-headed dog of legend in the castle and you're worried it's not getting enough fresh air?" Aria cried. "Cerberus guards Hell, remember?"

"Hades, Aria," Hermione corrected.

"Same difference."

"Well it's not right, locking animals away like that," Harry said. "That third floor corridor's not got any windows. It's all inside."

"I think it's guarding something," Hermione stated.

"Why?" Neville asked.

"Because it was standing on a trap door! Didn't you see it?"

"No," Neville snapped. "I didn't see what the beast was standing on. I was focused on not getting eaten by one of its heads. And it had _three_!"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"What could it possibly be guarding?" Aria asked.

"Maybe whatever was in the Gringotts vault Hagrid emptied when he took Harry to Diagon Alley," Ron suggested, laughing at his own thought. Hermione stopped short.

"What?" she cried. "You didn't tell us this!"

"I didn't tell you or Neville," Harry corrected. "And I didn't see why I should've mentioned it. It didn't come up in conversation and I only mentioned it to Aria and Ron because the seventh years were yelling about it across the common room."

Hermione tapped her chin.

"We should go ask Hagrid," she decided. "Tell him we accidentally stumbled upon the dog and see where that leads us."

"Are you sure you're not meant to be in Slytherin?" Aria asked. "That sounded very Slytherin-like."

"Come on. We've all got a free period."

The five traipsed through the snow to Hagrid's hut. Smoke curled from the chimney and firelight glowed from the windows, giving a warm, welcoming aura that made Aria think of simpler times when she was little and the world a little more big and life a little less complicated.

The giant of a man welcomed them with claps on the back, moving to put a kettle over the fire to boil. His Boarhound, Fang, lumbered up to the boys and drooled all over them. Thankfully Fang seemed wise enough to know that, even though Hermione and Aria enjoyed petting him, getting drooled on would have made them push him away.

Harry, Ron, and Neville, on the other hand, just laughed and tried to wipe the drool off their uniforms by wiping it on each other.

"Boys are disgusting," Aria whispered to Hermione. "Why are we friends with them?"

"Because we actually like hanging out with them," Hermione answered. "It's a bit sad. We must be desperate." They smiled brightly as Hagrid poured them tea and offered them cakes. They made a show of trying to eat the cakes, but since they were hard and not actually edible, they slipped the cakes into their school bags.

"So what brings ya down to my neck o' the woods?" Hagrid asked, settling on his seat. Fang flopped down at this feet.

"Hermione and Neville accidentally stumbled onto the third floor corridor," Aria stated. "The one that's off-limits."

"We were trying to escape Mrs. Norris!" Neville cried.

"That Mrs. Norris can be a right 'andful," Hagrid agreed. "I 'ope ya didn't get into any trouble?"

"Not with Filch or anyone," Hermione answered. "But Neville and I did stumble upon a Cerberus—,"

"That'd be Fluffy."

The quick confession from the beaming Hagrid brought Hermione's sentence to a halt. Aria paused putting sugar in her tea. The man had actually _named_ the beast?

"That _thing_ has name?" Neville cried.

"Of course it's gotta name!" Hagrid replied, as if insulted. "Got 'im off a Greek chap this summer. Was gonna keep 'im 'ere with me and Fang, but Professor Dumbledore suggested we use Fluffy." Hagrid frowned.

"Shouldn't 'ave said that," he muttered.

"Why would the headmaster want to lock Fluffy up?" Hermione asked. "Fluffy didn't look particularly happy." Hagrid looked horrified at that. "And he was standing on something, like a trap door."

"Well Cerberus make excellent guard dogs," Hagrid said. "But I don't know 'bout Dumbledore's business. That's between 'im and Nicholas Flamel." The man frowned again.

"Shouldn't 'ave told you that. Tea?"

Aria accepted another cup before sharing pleased looks with Hermione and the boys.

When classes ended the five made their way to the school library where Madam Pince eyed them suspiciously as she always did. Ron thought it was because he'd snuck food in once, but Aria thought it was because the woman found it odd to see a group of Slytherins and Gryffindors getting along.

"How are we to find anything?" Ron complained.

"The catalog section," Aria and Hermione replied.

"Granted, computers would be faster," Hermione said, "but still. Card catalog is better than nothing."

They came to a stop in front of the catalog wall. Aria climbed the ladder to the second to top level where Section F started and finding her way to the FL-FO drawer which she opened and began rifling through. She emerged after several long minutes.

"Got it!" she cried. "Ready for it?"

"Yes!" Hermione answered, already with a quill and notebook. Aria rattled off all seven locations of books that mentioned Flamel, Nicholas. She put the card back where it belonged, slid the drawer shut, and climbed down.

"These numbers are in the Restricted Section," Hermione stated, motioning to all but three books.

"So he must be a dangerous person," Neville said.

"Not necessarily," Harry answered. "Whatever he does could be dangerous or just something we don't learn about until later."

"Let's check out these books and see what turns up," Hermione suggested. "If we need to get into the Restricted Section we can just get Percy or someone to get it for us."

"That's very Slytherin of you," Aria said at the same time as Ron said,

"Why Percy?"

"Because, for some unknown reason, he likes Aria. As a _friend_ , Ronald. Don't give us that look."

"Why does my brother have a soft spot for Aria but not me?"

"Maybe because I share my cookies with him," Aria answered. "But let's check these three which aren't in the Restricted Section before making any further choices." She and Hermione led the way through the library. Madam Pince eyed them briefly before chasing after a group of sixth year girls who'd dared bring food into the library.

Aria pulled _Obscure Talents_ from the shelf. The heavy tome's dust filled her nose and she sneezed, almost losing her hold on the tome. Neville steadied her and she smiled gratefully at him before going to sit at the table the group had secured for their research.

Flipping to the back of the book in hopes of finding an index, she discovered there wasn't one. Flipping to the front of the book she found a table of contents, but without anything more than a name to go by, that wasn't much help either.

"You know," Harry said, "I wonder if Fluffy has anything to do with what Hagrid took out of Gringotts the day he took me shopping. The vault that was eventually broken into."

"I heard about that," Neville said. "What did Hagrid get?"

"I don't know. It was tiny and wrapped in brown paper."

Just then a Gryffindor sixth year slipped around a book shelf and tossed the first years several chocolate frogs.

"Sorry," she whispered, "Madam Pince is after my hide. Don't let her see them!" she disappeared through the shelves. The friends barely managed to hide the frogs under the books before Madam Pince came charging past them in pursuit of the sixth year.

"Maybe we shouldn't eat them while reading here," Hermione said. Aria opened a frog, expertly catching the chocolate creature before it hopped away, cramming the sweet into her mouth. Her cheeks bulged and she grinned at Hermione who looked disgusted at her antics.

"Who you got?" Ron asked. Aria had started her own chocolate frog collection out of the extras Ron and Daphne had, more out of curiosity at the figures in history than anything. She glanced at the card in her hand, gasped, and slapped a hand over her mouth, controlling (with much difficulty) the choking cough that erupted.

Once she was breathing normally again and assured her friends that she was not dying, she slammed the card down in the middle of the table. A weathered man looking far past his prime, stared at them with a serious look before going back to the book in his hands. He was dressed in dark blue robes and had his white hair cut short and tidy.

"Nicholas Flamel!" Harry cried. They glanced around for Madam Pince. When she didn't jump out at the friends leaned further over the card and lowered their voices to whispers.

"It says here that he's most famous for his achievements in alchemy, especially in the creation of the Philosopher's Stone," Harry read, "and is also known as a mentor and friend of Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore."

"Alchemy's real?" Aria questioned. "Like turning things into gold?"

"No," Ron said. "That's what Muggles get wrong. Alchemy's kinda a dying art. It was used in warding a lot, as well as runes and astrology. Bill had to take a class on alchemy for his apprenticeship when he was becoming a cursebreaker. I saw some of his text books."

"I suppose the Philosopher's Stone would be as good as gold," Hermione said. "If Muggles haven't gotten that wrong either. Muggles say it gives the user eternal life."

"Not eternal life per say," Neville said, eyeing Aria as she flipped through her book to the chapter on famous alchemists. "But stories do say it'll grant you near immortal life."

"Here!" Aria pushed the book into the center of their group. "It reads 'Nicholas Flamel is the only wizard to have created the fabled Philosopher's Stone. The stone, while not granting immortality, when used to create the Elixir of Life, will grant the drinker years onto his or her lifespan. Flamel will celebrate his 600th birthday in 1990."

"Well he's 602 by now," Harry said.

"That's ancient!" Aria cried. "I suspect he's been drinking that Elixir of Life several times throughout the years." She closed the book.

"Is that what Fluffy's guarding?" Neville asked. "The Elixir of Life?"

"No," Ron said. "The stories say that you can't have a working Elixir without the Philosopher's Stone. Harry, how big was the package that Hagrid got in Diagon?" Harry held up his hands.

"That could be the size of stone," Hermione said.

"Dumbledore's hiding the stone in Hogwarts?" Neville whispered. "Is he nuts? Someone tried to break into Gringotts for it! Hogwarts isn't as fortified as the bank!"

"Well, according to _Hogwarts, A History_ —,"

"I think what Neville meant, Hermione," Aria cut her off, "is that people are going to be after the Stone, especially if they know it's not in Gringotts. And if it's here, what's going to stop them from attacking students to get to it?"

The friends eyed each other.

"What should we do?" Neville asked.

"We should tell someone," Hermione stated. "Do you think the other professors know?"

Everyone shrugged.

"We should got to Snape or McGonagall," Aria said. "I choose Snape."

Queasiness passed over Neville's face at the thought of the potion's master. Aria patted his hand.

"You don't have to talk to him if you don't want to," she said. "I will. With Harry and Ron."

"He doesn't like us like he likes you," Harry said. "Sometimes I think he hates me, except that I'm a snake, so he can't totally hate me."

"Don't be ridiculous," Aria said. "He doesn't hate anyone. He's just perpetually grumpy."

* * *

Aria knocked on the door to Snape's office. Behind her, Harry and Ron fidgeted nervously. She shot them what she hoped was a look reminding them how she thought they were being scared over nothing.

The door swung open. Aria led the way in, finding their Head of House sitting at his desk correcting a seemingly never-ending pile of essays.

"We wanted to ask you a question," Aria stated once the door was closed. Snape sighed, setting his red quill down.

"What is it?" he demanded. "Why are Potter and Weasley looking like they'd rather have tea with the Giant Squid?"

"Because they're scaredy-cats," Aria stated.

"There's a reason we aren't Gryffindors, sir," Harry said.

"The reason you aren't Gryffindors is because you're better than them," Snape responded. "But please, continue, Miss Bourne."

"Is Dumbledore hiding the Philosopher's Stone in Hogwarts?" Aria demanded. "If so, how do we know it's safe and are we safe?"

Snape's jaw tightened. He lowered his hands to the top of his desk.

"May I ask what brought about these questions?" he asked.

"Moving staircases and Mrs. Norris," Aria replied. "And a visit to Hagrid's and the library."

Snape frowned at her. Aria almost wanted to go run and hide at that look, but squared her shoulders regardless. Okay, so Snape wasn't looking overly happy, but he wasn't looking down-right pissed either.

"A very Slytherin answer, Miss Bourne," he said.

"Thank you, sir," she answered.

"Rest assured, I and the professors here at Hogwarts have endeavored to ensure the greatest protections towards our students," Professor Snape told them. "In all matters. You'd do well to avoid the third floor corridor and report any suspicious activity to me immediately. Or McGonagall. I shall be informing her about this situation. Shall I assume your two Gryffindor cohorts know about this as well?"

Aria nodded.

"Very well. As long as we do not find you or your friends on the third floor corridor or furthering your investigations, I don't see why this conversation has to go further than McGonagall. But I warn you, dabble in what you shouldn't and you'll have to answer to me."

Aria, Harry, and Ron gulped.

"Yes, sir," they answered. Snape waved them off. Harry and Ron scurried out, Aria trying to follow with as much dignity as possible.


	13. After Professor Quirrell

**I do not own Harry Potter!**

The first remotely suspicious thing Aria came across after the short conversation with her Head of House was when she was heading to the library to meet Hermione. Ron and Harry had decided to skip the study group in order to play chess with Theo and Blaise.

She was just about to turn down the corridor leading to the library when voices, whispered and hurried, drifted out at her from an alcove partially concealed by a suit of armor that had horns.

"We can't do it here," she heard someone whisper.

"Why not? You're nervous doing it in our room."

"I'm nervous doing this anywhere! My brothers would have a field day, Ollie."

Ollie? Who was Ollie?

"Come on, Percy!"

Percy she knew. Aria pressed herself against the wall, peering with one eye around the corner. She could just make out the two forms of Percy Weasley and another boy his age. Percy leaned against the wall of the alcove, one hand on the other boy's shoulder while the other boy tried to steal kisses, eventually succeeding. Aria stuck her tongue out in disgust before hurrying away to the library.

Kissing! Really. She'd never understand the attraction kissing was.

Although, if she thought about it, the other boy beside Percy was really cute.

She plopped down beside Hermione, intent on dismissing the make-out session she'd witnessed from her head. Only, Percy and the mysterious Ollie came into the library not fifteen minutes later, and then Aria recognized the other boy.

Oliver Wood, fifth year Gryffindor, Quidditch Captain and Keeper. Marcus Flint was constantly cursing Oliver under his breath in the common room. Rumor was that Marcus and Oliver were secretly lovers and only pretended to hate each other, but it seemed those rumors were untrue.

Percy and Oliver disappeared into the stacks.

"Aria, could you go get some supplemental material?" Hermione asked. "I'll start working on the notes for our essays."

Aria slipped from her chair, glad to have an excuse to follow Percy into the stacks. The image of him alone and crying popped into her head. Had he and Oliver had a fight at that time? Was that why he'd been crying? Percy was awesome, always willing to help with homework and tell the twins off when they were being too rowdy.

"Oliver, I thought you said you wanted to study." Percy's slightly peeved voice caught Aria's attention.

"Study you."

"That's corny, Oliver."

"Sorry."

Aria peeked around the bookshelf. Percy was trying to spread out his books and parchment rolls while Oliver sat beside him, chin propped up on his hand, a silly grin on his face while he stared longingly at Percy.

"Oliver, if we don't study we're going to fail Snape's test!"

"Whatever."

"No, not whatever." Percy shoved a book under Oliver's nose. "Get to work."

Aria hurried to gather the texts she knew Hermione would want. Percy had a boyfriend! Did Ron know? If the twins knew, surely they would have announced it in the most embarrassing way possible for Percy.

"What took you so long?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," Aria answered. Her friend raised an eyebrow at her.

"Percy's got himself a boyfriend," Aria whispered. "I saw them in the stacks. It's that Oliver Wood guy."

"Really? That's surprising. They always seemed so different, though they are the only Gryffindor boys in their year. Fifth year's controlled by girls in Gryffindor."

"I think we've got more girls too in fifth year Slytherin, but not by much." The two girls lapsed back into study mode and the incident was soon forgotten.

* * *

Defense Against the Dark Arts made Aria want to scream. Professor Quirrell's stuttering had gotten so bad he'd ended up writing class work and homework on the board before sitting down to mutter to himself as he leafed through a heavy leather tome.

Every few minutes Aria noticed Harry rubbing his forehead.

"Are your headaches back?" she asked.

"And worse than ever," Harry muttered.

"I think we should tell Professor Snape about it," Aria said. "It's not normal, especially since you said it's centered in your scar."

"I-i-is someth-th-thing the m-m-matter?" Professor Quirrell asked, suddenly appearing by the students. Aria had all she could do not to screech in surprise. Harry tried to respond, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a pained groan before he decided resting his head on the desk was a better option than anything else.

"It's his head, Professor," Aria said.

"Has he finally gone mad?" Pansy asked.

"I think he needs to see Madam Pomfrey," Aria continued. She was pleased to see Daphne shove Pansy's shoulder, almost knocking the girl over.

Professor Quirrell froze for a moment, a deer caught in headlights. Was he also frightened of sick students?

"Then he must see Madam Pomfrey," Professor Quirrell declared. He flicked his wand, packing all of Harry's things in his knapsack and shouldering it. "Come along, Mr. Potter, I'll escort you. The rest of you, class is dismissed for the rest of the afternoon." Immediately the students began to chatter excitedly while packing their things. Professor Quirrell helped Harry to his feet, escorting him from the classroom.

"Should we go with him?" Ron asked.

"Why don't you go," Aria said. "I'm going to see Professor Snape."

"Why?"

"He said to report anything suspicious to him, didn't he?"

"But isn't he in the middle of a class?"

Aria paused. She hadn't thought of that.

Together Ron and Aria headed off to the infirmary, hoping to catch up with their professor and friend, but they arrived at the infirmary only to find Madam Pomfrey shelving Pepper-Up Potion for the last hurrah of cold season.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Professor Quirrell was bringing Harry here," Ron said, looking around. "They left before us."

"Oh? Well no one's been here. Are you sure they were coming here?"

"Yes," Aria replied. "Harry is suffering an awful headache. He looked like he was going to be sick."

"That'd be a migraine, dear," Madam Pomfrey said. "I'll be on the look out. Perhaps the migraine caused Mr. Potter to be sick and they're in a bathroom."

The friends backtracked their steps to the only boy's bathroom between the DADA classroom and infirmary. No one was there.

"Are there other routes to the infirmary?" Arai asked.

"I didn't think so," Ron answered. A heavy feeling sunk into Aria's stomach.

"We're going to get Snape," she said. "I don't care if he is in the middle of class. I don't have a good feeling about this." Already she could feel her magic itching against her skin, wanting to be released. She marched off in the direction of the dungeons, Ron hurrying to keep up, all the while he muttered that they would be turned into toads.

Just as they began to descend one staircase movement in the corner of her eye made Aria look up.

"Look, Ron!" she cried, grabbing her friend's robe and pointing. Professor Quirrell and Harry disappeared off a staircase onto the third floor corridor.

"What's going on?" Ron asked. "I don't understand."

"I don't think we have time for Snape," Aria said, dashing off towards the third floor corridor. "Are you coming or not?" The heavy feeling her stomach gained weight. She drew her wand, pulling strength from the comforting feeling of her new wand.

In the third floor corridor they found one of the doors open a crack. Peeking in, Aria and Ron discovered the Cerberus Neville and Hermione had seen, though all three heads were fast asleep while an enchanted harp played music.

"Who'd have thought they liked music," Aria whispered as she and Ron tiptoed into the room. "Do you think it'd have fallen asleep to rock music?"

"What sort of music?" Ron questioned.

"Never mind. Look, the trap door!" She and Ron peered into the depths. Ron lit his wand, but even with it lit they couldn't see what was below.

"M-maybe we should go back and get Professor Snape," Ron suggested.

"You didn't even want to go get him in the first place!"

"Only because he was in the middle of class and we thought Harry was going to be in the infirmary."

Aria huffed, freezing as a drop of drool landed by her foot, barely missing her robes. Glancing at the harp she had enough time to register that it'd stopped playing before Fluffy began to growl. Grabbing Ron's robe, she jumped through the trapdoor, dragging him with her, just as one of the heads began snapping its jaw.

"I don't like this!" Ron cried, once they'd landed. Aria lit her wand. Vines surrounded them, moving around them as if trying to wrap around their bodies. She moved her wand and the vines shrank back from the light.

"Devil's Snare," she whispered. "I'm going to have nightmares, I'm sure."

"Doesn't Devil's Snare choke you to death?" Ron asked. Vines were wrapping around him. He whimpered.

"Don't move," Aria said. "They like movement. And, if I remember Neville's lectures, they don't like sunlight either." Holding her lit wand with both hands she concentrated on willing more of her magical core through the wand, making the tip of the wand glow brighter and brighter. Her magic itched and tingled against her skin, but she refused to be distracted. Professor Snape had said concentrating would help keep her magical core under control, now she just needed to concentrate on doing the opposite. But only a little.

The Devil's Snare all but fled from the growing light of her wand. Yelping, she and Ron were dropped onto a hard, stone floor. Pain shot up her spine from where she'd landed on her backside, and it took a moment for the feeling to come back to her legs.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked, crawling towards her.

"Yeah, just give me a minute."

Aria, with the help of Ron, managed to climb to her feet. Her tailbone was going to be bruised something awful, she just knew it. Every step hurt and after less than ten steps tears were in her eyes.

"Aria, are you sure you're all right?"

"I will be," Aria gritted out. "Bloody hell!" She shuffled forward after Ron into the next room. All over the floor winged creatures. At first Aria thought they were moths, killed or dying. But on closer inspection she found them to be keys.

"This is creepy," Ron muttered. "I feel like the keys should be alive."

They toed their way around the keys to the opposite end of the room where a key was jammed into a door's lock, its wings bent and twisted in a manner that made Aria's stomach roll. Ron yanked the door open, letting Aria hobble through first.

Within this new room were statues, giant stone works of art upon a marble flooring. On the other side of the room, Aria and Ron heard a door slam shut.

"How's Professor Quirrell getting along so fast?" Aria cried, wincing as she made her way forward around several black statues towards the white ones.

"Do these statues look familiar to you?" Ron asked. Aria glanced around, trying to concentrate on the statues, but the pain in her tailbone was starting to cloud her head and it was hard to focus on anything besides the pain. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes, using every bit of her will power to push the thought of the pain to the back of her mind where it couldn't bother her, using the meditation techniques Professor Snape had been teaching her in order for her to control her magical core. He'd always said these techniques could be used for more than just controlling one's magic.

Seemed he was right.

With the thought of the pain now at the back of her mind, Aria could focus on what was in front of her.

"They're giant chess pieces!" Ron told her. "We're going to have to play to get across."

"How'd Professor Quirrell get across? You can't play chess that fast," Aria pointed out.

"He's a _Defense Master_ , Aria. He probably helped put these things in place to guard whatever needs guarding."

"The Philosopher's Stone?" Aria supplied.

"Right."

Aria glared at the stone statues in front of them. They didn't look harmful. She took another step forward. The white pawns sprang to life, drawing their swords. Stumbling back into Ron she and he fell over. She yelled as her tailbone was jostled and hastily wiped away the tears that appeared from her eyes. The pawns put their swords away.

"We don't have time to play this stupid game!" Aria cried, forcing herself to her feet.

"Chess is not stupid," Ron argued.

"Our friend could be hurt or worse!" Aria's voice began to grow louder. Pain and frustration made her body quiver. "We don't have time to play chess!" She pointed her wand at one of the pawns and let her magical core leap up her arm and through the wand, allowing the pain and the frustration to fuel the power behind the magic. The pawn exploded into large rock pieces, rock dust falling over the marble floor. Another fling of her wand and the queen behind the pawn exploded too.

"Aria!" she heard Ron shot. With one final, angry shout, she pointed her wand at the white king, exploding it. Immediately the remaining white pieces crumpled to dust in their squares.

"Aria!" Ron shouted again. Aria peered at him over her shoulder. Sweat stung her eyes.

"What?" she snapped.

Ron merely opened and closed his mouth, blue eyes wide and frightened, of her it seemed.

"You're not normal," he said.

Aria rolled her eyes.

"I already knew that," she said. "I'm the Muggleborn Slytherin, remember? Now _come on_. We've wasted enough time as it is." She marched past the chess board destruction for the next door, Ron trailing behind several feet.


	14. Dark Lords, Dads, and Stones

**I do not own Harry Potter!** **And, yes, before you comment at the end of the chapter, I know I haven't included all the trials from the books but just chill. This is AU remember? Or as I saw on tumblr, UA which is Universe Alteration.**

The room Aria and Ron came to was lit with dozens of torches, illuminating the Mirror Erised which stood in the center of the chamber. Before it stood Professor Quirrell, shaking Harry as he made the boy look into the mirror.

"Intruders!" a voice cried, slimy and raspy, yet with such venom that chills raced up Aria's spine. Professor Quirrell paused in his shaking of Harry, spinning around to look at the two first years. Harry too twisted in the man's grasp.

"Run!" Harry shouted. Quirrell smacked him across the face before raising a hand in Aria and Ron's direction. Their wands flew out of their hands before invisible ropes wrapped around their wrists, yanking them forward until they joined Harry in front of the mirror. Aria and Ron toppled into Harry and the three tumbled to the floor.

"Get up!" Quirrell ordered. Aria noted that his stuttering had mysteriously disappeared. Had that just been a ruse? Her tailbone ached. Ron and Harry helped her to her feet, squishing her between them as if trying to protect her.

"It's a pity the three of you won't make it out of here alive," Quirrell muttered. "I hadn't expected you two to follow us so closely."

"We wouldn't have you'd just taken Harry to the infirmary," Aria snapped. Quirrell glared at her.

"Silence, Mudblood," he hissed. Aria frowned. What had he called her? "Someday you and your kind will know your place."

Beside her, Ron stiffened, as if he were more angry than frightened.

"As it is, perhaps one of you will be more cooperative than your friend," Quirrell continued. "I want one of you to get the Philosopher's Stone for me."

"The what?" Aria questioned. Perhaps if she and Ron played dumb more time could be bought for . . . she didn't know what.

"The Philosopher's Stone," Quirrell answered. "It will return my master to his own body and I to mine. It'll give him enough strength to return to power."

"Enough, Quirrell!" the raspy voice snapped. Chills ran up Aria's spine again. "Just get the stone!"

"Yes, Master," Quirrell murmured. He pointed his wand at the friends. "The stone is hidden in that mirror and I cannot get it."

"What makes you think three first years can get it?" Ron asked.

 _"Crucio_!" Ron dropped to the ground, convulsing and screaming, his entire body arching until Aria thought his back would snap. She made to kneel by Ron's side, but Harry held her back, clinging to her, as if afraid that she'd get caught up in the spell.

Quirrell finally released Ron from the spell. Harry and Aria hurried to their friend's side. He lay trembling, tears running down his cheeks, face pale and freckles darker than usual.

"Shall I do it again?" Quirrell demanded. "Or shall one of you attempt to get the stone?"

"I'll do it," Aria answered, wiping away her own tears. She'd never be able to sleep after seeing Ron in such agony. She pushed herself to her feet, hissing at her body protected the movement, and planted herself in front of the mirror. Once again her mother and father appeared on either shoulder, smiling at her from the glass.

Now what?

For a moment nothing happened.

"What do you see?" Quirrell demanded.

"I . . . I see my parents," Aria stuttered. "My mum and dad. Mum's dead, you see." She stared at her mother for several more seconds. A small gasp escaped her as her mother moved, raising a finger to her lips to shush Aria, and then showing off a red stone in her hand. With wide eyes, Aria watched her mother slip the red stone into her reflection's school robe pocket.

Suddenly a small weight appeared in Aria's school robe pocket.

I will not touch it, I will not touch it, Aria thought to herself. This was the Philosopher's Stone, somehow she'd gotten it when Professor Quirrell could not!

"What is it?" Quirrell snapped.

"Oh . . . just . . . Mum and Dad are kissing now," Aria answered.

"She lies!" the raspy voice cried. Aria stepped away from Quirrell, over to where Harry now had Ron on his feet, but leaning heavily against him. Aria slipped under Ron's other arm and together the three friends began slowly backing away.

"I want to see the children," the voice ordered.

"Master, you are not strong enough," Quirrell cried.

"I'm strong enough for this!"

Quirrell reached up and began unwinding his turbine. When it fell away Aria's breath fled her lungs. She inched closer to Ron. Even though she was now in the wizarding world, she doubted having an extra face at the back of one's head was normal, even in the wizarding world.

"What the hell?" Ron whispered.

"Voldemort," Harry breathed.

"Indeed," the face answered, using the mirror to stare at the children. Aria cringed at the red eyes and slanted nostrils where a nose was meant to be. "I am Voldemort. And you have the Philosopher's Stone."

"That's the greatest Dark Lord of all time?" Aria whispered to her friends. "He's a parasite!"

"Silence, girl!" the face shouted. "Keep silent in the presence of your betters."

Fear budded deep in Aria's stomach. She needed to remember that this was the Dark Lord who had made it his mission to wipe out all Muggleborns, the reason why Harry's parents were dead, the reason why she was such an anomaly in the House of Slytherin. What was three first years against a homicidal professor and parasitic Dark Lord?

"Don't talk to Aria that way!" Harry snapped. "She's worth twenty of the best purebloods!"

"When I get my full body back," Voldemort continued, Quirrell advancing on the students, "I will finish where I failed that Halloween night." Quirrell reached out and grabbed hold of Harry's chin. "Understand?"

Before Harry could reply, Quirrell jerked his hand away with a cry of horror. Aria screamed, seeing the man's hand wither and burn away into ash.

"What is this magic?" Quirrell demanded. "What has changed?"

"Get the stone!" Voldemort ordered. Quirrell turned to Aria, reaching for her. Harry grabbed hold of Quirrell, clawing at him until his hands rested on the man's neck and face. Their DADA professor shrieked and wailed in agony as his entire body became consumed in whatever curse had touched his body. His skin turned dark and gray, crumbling before the children's eyes.

The man's clothing fell to the ground, a pile of ash smoking underneath.

A waif rose from the ashes, a transparent, shrunken head of what had been attached to the back of Quirrell's skull. Its black, hollow eyes stared at the children, as if trying to see into their souls. It released a shout before flying towards the friends. The three screamed, ducking just as the waif almost flew straight through Ron's chest. It gave another cry before flying through a wall and disappearing.

The three first years staid huddled, crouching against each other, for several minutes. Each them trembled from fear, and Ron from much more. Finally, Harry spoke.

"W-we should get g-going," he muttered. They stood, Aria wincing at the pain in her tailbone, and slowly the three started back they way they'd come, scooping up their wands as they went. As they made their way across the chessboard, Ron tried to shrug off Harry and Aria, but his shaking legs couldn't hold him up, so he accepted Harry and Aria's help with much grumbling.

They were just making their way through the room with fallen flying keys when Professor Snape and McGonagall appeared.

"Oh praise Merlin!" McGonagall cried. Snape, scowling angrily, knelt on one knee, drawing the three friends into a tight embrace which last several seconds before he released them and started running his wand over the three.

"How are they, Severus?" McGonagall asked.

"Mr. Potter has some bruises, nothing major," Snape muttered. "Miss Bourne has a broken tailbone . . . ."

"From falling out of the Devil's Snare," Aria said.

"And Mr. Weasley's got nerve damage," Snape finished. "That could be a vast majority of spells. Do either of you remember what spell was used?"

"Quirrell said 'crucio,'" Harry supplied. McGonagall gasped, hands flying to her mouth. Snape's mouth turned into a viscous frown. Without another word he opened his voluminous robes, reached into a pocket, and pulled out a vial, filled with a potion silver as moonlight, with just the barest hint of a sparkle.

"Take this, Mr. Weasley," Snape instructed. He helped Ron swallow it. Immediately the boy's trembling lessened and he sagged with relief against Harry.

"Now, you should be able to walk on your own," Snape said. "You, on the other hand, Miss Bourne, are not going to walk." He lifted her into her arms and together the five made their way through a hidden passageway that the professors had obviously come through.

In the infirmary Madam Pomfrey began to fuss, shoving a disgusting potion down Aria's throat called Skele-Knit. Aria did her best not to vomit it up. Next came a Dreamless Sleep potion and all three Slytherins were out like lights.

* * *

" . . . it is the most curious thing," Dumbledore said.

This was not how Aria wanted to wake up. Keeping her eyes shut and breathing as steady as possible, she continued listening.

"I hid the stone in the Mirror," Dumbledore continued. "I made it so that the only way to extract it, was for someone to look into the mirror, want the stone, and not desire to use it. Clever on my part."

"Indeed, sir," Harry answered. "Though at the time I didn't know that, so when Quirrell made me look in the mirror I kept thinking how much I didn't want it."

"Yes, I can see how that would be a reaction for you," the headmaster agreed. "Are you certain no one else looked into the mirror?"

"I'm sure," Harry said. "I mean, we all stood in front of it, but I'm the only one Quirrell made look in. Then he was cursing Ron and stuff."

Dumbledore made a humming noise.

"Thank you for speaking with me, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said. "I shall leave you to rest."

"Headmaster?"

"Yes, my boy."

"When I touched Quirrell . . . skin to skin . . . why did my touch hurt him?"

"I believe, Mr. Potter, that it has to do with your mother. A mother's love is a powerful thing, even in Muggles. If it's powerful in Muggles, how much stronger is it in witches? Reports from your home that Halloween night have Lily Potter dying in front of your crib. I surmise she sacrificed herself for you and that her magic, somehow, protects you"

Footsteps faded. The infirmary door opened and closed. Aria opened her eyes to find Harry sitting up in his bed, staring moodily at his hands.

"What'd the Headmaster want?" Aria asked. Harry gasped, a hand slapping against his heart.

"Don't _do_ that!" he cried. "And he wanted to know what happened down in the dungeons because that's actually where we were."

"We were?" Aria sat up, glad when her tailbone didn't hurt. "No wonder I broke my tailbone if I fell all the way into the dungeons from the third floor!"

Harry chuckled.

"Why'd you lie?"

Harry glanced towards the infirmary doors.

"Intuition," he muttered. "Something doesn't sit right with me about the headmaster. I don't know what."

Aria hummed. Spotting her school robes hanging off the foot of her bed she grabbed the robe and reached into the pocket, grasping the hard object within. Pulling it out she drew in a breath seeing the gleaming crimson stone the size of her palm.

"You did get it!" Harry cried.

"Yes, I did," Aria stated. "I had a little help from my mum."

The infirmary doors opened. Professor Snape entered, followed by a noisely talking group of redheads which woke Ron up. The moment he spotted who was at the door he rolled over and yanked the covers over his head.

"Don't think you can get away from us," one of the red heads said. "Come on, Ronald."

"Do as your father says," a woman, Aria recognized her as Mrs. Weasley from Platform 9 3/4, said. She pulled the covers from Ron's head and the group which consisted of the twins, Percy, two older red heads besides Mr. Weasley, and a little girl, gathered around the bed.

"What were you thinking?" was heard from several red heads.

"Indeed, that's what I wish to find out," Professor Snape said. "Mr. Potter we can excuse as he was forced along with this mad scheme, but Miss Bourne and Mr. Weasley? What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Aria slipped the Philosopher's Stone under her pillow.

"We weren't thinking?" Ron suggested.

"That much is obvious, deary," Mrs. Weasley said. "Why didn't at least one of you go and get a teacher?"

Oh. That would have been a smart idea. Aria glanced sheepishly at her Head of House, only to have him glare disappointedly at her. She bowed her head, twiddling her thumbs.

"Your father has also been notified," Professor Snape said to Aria. "He's written me back that he wishes to come this evening after he's off work."

"Kill me now," Aria muttered. "He's going to be so angry!"

"As he should be," Snape snapped. "While protecting your friends is noble and honorable, rushing headlong into a fight with no backup plan or any experience is not! You three are lucky that you escaped an encounter with the Dark Lord with a broken tailbone and one bout of the Cruciatous Curse! People older than you and out of Hogwarts were never so lucky."

Aria gulped. Harry hunkered down in his bed. Ron looked like he wanted to melt into the wall.

"Now, Severus, we shouldn't frighten them that much," Mr. Weasley murmured. "I think this whole experience has taught them some valuable lessons. Right, children?"

The three of them nodded their heads, even though it was clear he'd only been speaking to Aria and Ron.

"How is Ron, Professor?" one of the unknown red heads asked. He was thin with long hair and some sort of fang as an earring.

"I was able to administer the Nerve Regeneration Potion within an hour of him receiving the curse," Snape answered. "There'll be no lasting _physical_ side effects."

The Weasleys all breathed a sigh of relief. The girl, Aria assumed this was Ginny that the boys always talked about, snuggled against Ron's side. Ron slung an arm over her shoulders.

Another two figures appeared in the doorway of the infirmary, making everyone not in a bed straighten and nod.

"Lord and Lady Weasley," Professor Snape murmured.

"Professor," Lord Weasley answered. His voice, deep and warm, held a sharp edge to it. He had neatly combed mop of white hair on his head with a mustache and goatee of matching color. Lady Weasley wore salt and pepper hair in an elegant bun. Both were easily in their seventies or eighties and wore what Aria surmised to be matching traditional wizarding robes of a dark purple and burnt gold.

"Grandfather," the Weasley children greeted.

"I'm glad you've come, Father," Mr. Weasley said. "Hopefully now we can get to the bottom of what has happened here."

"Indeed," Lord Weasley said. "I shall be speaking with the Headmaster shortly. But first, Professor Snape, before all of us gathered, why did the professors not attempt to make a stop to this insane act?"

"Lord Weasley, have you ever tried to say no to the headmaster? Really and truly say no?" Professor Snape demanded. "We lodged our complaints with him and sent them on to the Board as well. When nothing was done, even after the troll incident, then we professors simply continued to protect the children as best as we could. The only children who've attempted access to that floor on purpose have been the twins and a few daredevil seventh years."

Everyone glanced at Fred and George. Mrs. Weasley pinched their ears.

"I think the real question, Lord Weasley, is why the headmaster decided to bring the stone to Hogwarts in the first place and why Nicholas Flamel agreed." Professor Snape stepped around the lord. "You are friends with Flamel, are you not?"

Snape did bring up a valid point, Aria thought. Why had Dumbledore wanted to bring the stone to Hogwarts and why had Flamel agreed to it?

"Your questions are genuine," Lady Weasley answered. "But I'm not satisfied with your answers."

"Be as that may be," Snape replied. He bowed and stalked from the infirmary.

"Ronald," Lady Weasley murmured, pushing her way through and pressing a kiss to her grandson's head. "How are you feeling? Your father reported you'd faced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and suffered an Unforgivable!"

"Yes, Grandmother," Ron said. "That's true, but I'm fine now. Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey patched me up real well. Oh! Harry, Aria, meet the rest of my family. My dad, my sister Ginny," the girl smiled shyly at Aria, "my brothers Bill and Charlie; and my grandparents, Lord and Lady Weasley."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Aria said. "Ron talks about all of you rather frequently."

"All good things I hope," Charlie said with a wink. He was broad with defined muscles and short cropped hair. There was scar or two on one of his arms that looked like giant scratch marks.

"Absolutely horrible," Harry answered. Ron sputtered.

As the Weasleys lowered their voices for a more private moment Aria laid back down against her pillow, and watched as Harry kept shooting his friend and friend's family longing looks.

Aria, Harry, and Ron were released from the infirmary in time for dinner that night. Which was fortunate for all of them because the three of them were sick of the infirmary, even though they'd had a steady stream of visitors from all four houses. As Prudence had put it,

"It's the best kept secret at Hogwarts now. Therefore, everyone knows."

Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones had visited from Hufflepuff, dragging their Muggleborn first year housemate, Justin Finch-Fletchley with them, though Aria had noticed Zacharias Smith peeking around the edges of the infirmary door. Sometimes she wasn't sure how he got into Hufflepuff as he could be as nasty as Pansy on a good day.

Surprisingly various Slytherins came and visited. Daphne, Blaise, and Theo weren't a surprise. Draco coming and declaring that, as the representing Malfoy at Hogwarts, it was his duty to determine how the health of his fellow Slytherins were after their battle with the Dark Lord, was a surprise. He brought chocolate which his mother had sent from Switzerland.

 _Divine_.

Aria was starting contemplating an actual friendship with Draco Malfoy if he continued supplying sweets.

But even with the visitors Aria, Harry, and Ron were glad to escape the fussing of Madam Pomfrey and get back to being with their classmates.

The three had barely taken their seats at the Slytherin table when Daphne nodded towards the Great Hall's doorway.

"Isn't that your dad, Aria?" she asked. Aria's head whipped towards the doorway where Professor Snape stood with her dad, pointing towards her. She caught her dad's gaze and immediately she knew she was in trouble. His mouth was set in a hard line and she could see, even from where she sat, how tense his body was signaling to her he was mad. Very mad.

"Hide me!" she cried, ducking under the table.

"Aria?" Theo questioned.

"What are you doing, Bourne?" Pansy demanded.

"Aria Kathleen Bourne!"

Aria gulped from where she huddled under the table.

"Get out from under the table right now, young lady."

Slowly Aria inched her way onto the opposite bench between Daphne and Blaise. Her dad stood where she'd been sitting, arms folded, eyes boring into her like drills.

"Professor Snape has so kindly informed me that he's reserved some family rooms for us tonight," Kenneth stated, his voice low and hard. "You'll dine with me."

Opening her mouth to argue, the words died in Aria's mouth before they escaped. Kenneth lifted his chin in his usual 'I'm daring you to defy me' and Aria knew nothing good would come if she argued. More like a summer of grounding than anything.

Shoulders slumping she slipped from her seat and made her way to the Great Hall doors where her dad met her. Professor Snape guided them down a side hallway to a door which he opened. Kenneth guided Aria through and closed the door behind them.

The room Aria found herself in was cozy and a small fire crackled in the hearth. Steaming plates of food were on a table, the smell wafting to Aria's nose, making her stomach grumble. Kenneth steered her towards the couch which was set in front of the fire. He pushed her onto the couch before he began to pace in front of her.

"I hope you know I'm disappointed in you," Kenneth stated. Aria bowed her head, pressing her hands between her knees. That was the worse feeling in the world.

"What do you did was reckless and foolhardy," Kenneth continued. "You could have _died_ , Aria, I hope you know! You got a broken tailbone!"

Aria nodded, words stuck in her throat.

Kenneth sat beside her, hard enough to make her bounce.

"Don't get me wrong, Aria," he said, "I'm proud that you were so concerned for your friend and quick to go after him, but you ran in without a single thought about your safety or Ron's. You went in without a plan without a weapon without anything! I know that, later in life, you will be the one defending your friends or yourself. But there are going to be instances where your only responsibility is to get an adult. A responsible adult like Severus or that Professor McGonagall."

"I'm sorry, Dad," Aria whispered, tears pricking at her eyes. "I just got so scared for Harry."

"As you should have. But you shouldn't have gone running after him like you did. You could have _died_ , Aria, and you're the only thing I've got left that's worth living for." Kenneth grabbed her shoulders, turning her so that they could look at each other.

"I cannot lose you too," Kenneth stated. "I will do everything I can to protect you so that you grow up to be as good and as strong of a woman as your mum was, even more so than she. Even if I have to pull you from Hogwarts."

"No!" Aria cried. "You wouldn't!"

"I would, if I thought you'd be safer. From others. And from yourself. I don't like this Dark Lord stuff, it reminds me too much of history class and Hitler."

"I'm sure this year was a fluke," Aria insisted. "I hear the Board and Ron's grandparents are very upset about the Headmaster bringing in the Philosopher's Stone into the school. I bet there'll be a inquiry, like with the troll."

Not to mention the missing Stone. Not that she would mention it was in her bedside drawer back in her dorms where she had put it before coming to the Great Hall.

"Don't pull me out, Dad," Aria begged. Kenneth pulled her into a hug. Aria held on as tight as she could.

"I haven't made any final decisions. I'm going to be talking with Severus."

Aria nodded, clinging tighter.

"I am sorry," she said. "For making your worry. For not using my head."

"Live and learn, Aria. That's all you can do now." Kenneth kissed her cheek. "Now, that food smells divine. Shall we get to eating it?


	15. Nicholas Flamel

Aria had to do a double take the next morning. The emeralds in the Slytherin hourglass were much lower than they had been, and the Gryffindor rubies were much higher than they had been. Last night Slytherin had led in House Cup Points, now Gryffindor did and Slytherin had fallen to third place behind Ravenclaw, though Hufflepuff wasn't too far behind Slytherin.

How could this have happened?

"Aria?" Hermione came up to her side. "What's the matter?"

"Slytherin dropped two hundred points overnight!" Aria cried. "That's what's wrong."

Hermione gasped.

"Oh, Aria," she murmured. "I think I know what happened. Last night, Headmaster Dumbledore came to the Gryffindor common room and awarded Neville and I one hundred points each for being cool headed and responding logically to crisis."

"Well no one came to the Slytherin common room to inform us about our loss of points," Aria retorted. "It must be nice for you Gryffindors."

"That's not fair, Aria."

"Perhaps not. And perhaps Ron and I did deserve a few points loss to remind us to use our heads next time, but _two hundred points_? We faced a bloody Dark Lord! I didn't even know Dark Lords existed until Hogwarts. Shouldn't the terror of that at least compensate for our poor decision making skills?"

"What's got you all upset, Aria?" Percy asked, strolling up to the two with Oliver Wood sauntering behind him. "And before breakfast too?"

"We think Headmaster Dumbledore took away two hundred points from Slytherin for Aria and Ron's stunt," Hermione answered. "And gave those points to Gryffindor."

"And we're upset why?" Oliver asked. "It'll be the first time in almost seven years that another house wins the House Cup."

"Exactly!" Aria cried. "Don't you see the problem? We've got seventh year Slytherins who won't be happy their clean record's about to be broken. And we don't have any Quidditch matches left to make up the points, and we've only got exams to make up the point lost."

She scratched at her arms, feeling her magic tingle under her skin. Taking several deep breaths Aria focused on pushing the magic down away from her skin, back towards her center. It wasn't that she didn't like Oliver, it was just that he was always with Percy now (studying for exams supposedly) and he was brash and obnoxious like some of the well-to-do kids and the we're-only-in-school-because-it's-the-law kids she had had to deal with in primary.

"Still don't see a problem," Oliver stated.

"Yeah, well, you're not a Muggleborn in Slytherin either," Aria muttered. Oliver frowned.

"They give you problems?" he asked.

"Not really," Aria answered. "I think I've been lucky though. Don't want to push my luck and it won't be too hard for my housemates to put two and two together."

"Come off it, Oliver," Percy murmured. "As much as it'd be great to stick it to the Slytherins, it's no fun winning unfairly. You of all people should know that."

Oliver frowned.

"I don't like it when you're logical," the Keeper told Percy. "You end up looking like the better person."

"He is the better person," Aria said. "He doesn't have to try too hard."

Oliver pointed a finger at Aria.

"I don't think I like you," he stated.

"I'm crying," Aria replied.

"Okay!" Percy tugged Oliver away from Aria. "Way to show your maturity, Oliver. Picking fights with a first year."

Aria grinned at Oliver who tried his best to appear intimidating. Hermione hid a grin behind her hand.

It didn't take long during breakfast for Slytherin to figure out where their two hundred points had gone and who'd lost it, especially since the Gryffindors weren't above bragging. Fred and George had been the loudest, teasing Ron something mercilessly until Percy and Marcus Flint called them off, Percy with threats of Mrs. Weasley, and Flint with a good strong hex which just made Dumbledore take more points from Slytherin from where he sat at the Head Table.

"It's not fair," Blaise stated.

"We did break some rules," Aria muttered.

"But you also saved a fellow student and fought off a Dark Lord," Daphne said. "That deserves some points. I mean, Hermione and Neville definitely used their heads better and deserved their points, but we didn't deserve to lose points."

"Best get used to it, firsties," Prudence said from her spot nearby. "Everyone knows Dumbledore favors the Gryffindors and hates us Slytherin. Don't look so worried, Aria. The prefects will do their best to keep the seventh years from drawing your blood, but we all know it's because Dumbledore hates us, not because you actually did anything wrong."

Aria poked her eggs. That still didn't make her feel better. Her magic swirled as anger built up. The headmaster was unfair. Blatantly. The whole house thought it was and even a few students in Gryffindor thought he was! One glance at the Head Table told Aria that Professor Snape was furious at the loss of points and that McGonagall seemed stuck between being happy for her Gryffindors and being offended on behalf of Slytherin. Professors Flitwick and Sprout had wisely seated themselves away from their fellow Heads of House and the Headmaster that morning.

Just as breakfast was beginning to wind down a figure appeared at the door of the Great Hall, a man dressed in immaculate burgundy robes with golden embroidery. His silver hair hung in a neat plait over his shoulder while his beard was neatly combed. His sharp green eyes made several nearby students duck their heads, as if to avoid the ire that radiated off the man.

"Albus!" the man snapped. "I will have words with you."

"I'd like words with Dumbledore too," Harry muttered to Aria.

"Who's that?" Pansy demanded.

"I could be wrong," Ron muttered. "But I'd bet my chess board that's Nicholas Flamel."

"The alchemist?" Daphne questioned. Aria and her friends snapped their head in her direction. "What? My father's friends with his great-great-great-great-I don't remember how many greats-grandson. The man's like six hundred. I've met him. Fascinating for sure."

"We should just ask Daphne next time we don't know who someone is," Aria muttered to Ron and Harry. "I feel like between her and Draco, they know everyone in the Wizarding World."

"In Britain at least," Ron agreed.

Dumbledore rose from his seat and met Flamel where he stood.

"Shall we adjourn to my office?" Dumbledore suggested.

"You gave me your word that my creation would be safe," Flamel stated. Aria could just hear the faintest hint of a Russian or Scandinavian accent from the ancient man. For six hundred some odd years, he looked quite young and healthy.

"Shall we adjourn to my office?" Dumbledore repeated.

"I would like to speak to the three students who were involved," Flamel said. "With their Head of House present of course."

Aria turned to look at Professor Snape who rose from his seat and with a flick of his hand, motioned Aria, Harry, and Ron to his side. The three hurried to him and he led them to where the two powerful wizards stood glaring at each other.

All eyes were on them. Aria was keenly aware of the older Slytherins, especially the seventh years, on her. The looks were heated and angry and she didn't blame them, she only wished they weren't directed at her.

Not that she could do anything about it.

In the headmaster's office, Flamel strolled around the lower level where the door and Dumbledore's desk was.

"Where's Fawkes?" Flamel asked.

"Having his morning fly," Dumbledore replied.

"What a pity, I would have dearly loved to see him," Flamel said. "He's the only other creature I know who's seen the world change as much as I have."

Who was Fawkes? Guy Fawkes? He was dead wasn't he?

Nicholas Flamel came to a standstill beside the headmaster's desk. Dumbledore sank into his throne like chair behind the desk, indicating for Aria, Harry, and Ron to step forward.

"I wanted to thank you three for thwarting the Dark Lord in his attempt at stealing my Philosopher's Stone," Flamel said, his body bending ever so slightly at them. "I applaud your courage in the face of danger and, while I don't promote foolhardy headlong diving into dangerous situation, I admire your loyalty to your friend to even make it so far past the safe guards in place."

"I . . . didn't really do anything, sir," Ron said. "It was all Aria."

"You didn't have to come," Aria pointed out.

"Indeed, Mr. Weasley," Flamel said. "I've met many Weasleys over the centuries and I'm honored to call your grandfather a friend. You acted with no less courage than your forefathers. A bit more Gryffindor than Slytherin, but it's my belief, having only heard of the famous Sorting Hat and its duties, we all have bits and pieces of the Houses in us."

"You didn't graduate Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Oh no!" Flamel laughed. "I graduated Durmstrang. We sort our students very differently. But that, I cannot tell you, my young lady." He smiled, a small thing that made Aria feel like she was being handed a rare gift.

"I also wanted to apologize to you three concerning my stone," Flamel continue, his smile disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. "You three never should have been involved with it in the first place. It should have been well guarded and the headmaster should have been aware of who or what was within this castle."

"There are ways even passed the most impressive of wards," Dumbledore stated, shooting Flamel a sharp look.

"Regardless," Flamel said, "you gave me your word that the stone would be safe within the school and that none of the students would get involved purposefully or accidentally. I think, old friend, we can safely say that your promises were not fully kept."

Dumbledore's face pinched like he was sucking on a lemon.

"As it is," Flamel continued, "my stone is now missing. I don't see myself or my wife using it any time soon, or perhaps now it's for the best if we destroy it, but either way, we must find it because we cannot have a Philosopher's Stone out on the loose."

That did not sound good. Aria glanced over her shoulder at Snape whose lips were turned into a deep frown as he stared into the distance, a thoughtful look over his face, like he was thinking hard about where the stone could be.

Aria almost smiled. Here she stood, before three of the greatest wizards she knew of, and she knew something they didn't, and had something they wanted.

This was power.

She turned back to Flamel, and immediately felt a push at her head. Like invisible hands shoving against her eyes. Her magic flared in defense before she could do anything more than cry out at the excruciating pain. Around her trinkets on shelves rattled, several books flew off the shelf. She squeezed her eyes shut and rammed the heels of her palms against her eyelids.

"Aria!" she heard Harry and Ron shout.

"Miss Bourne?" That was Snape. She felt his hands on her shoulders, turning her towards him, and his hand gently drew her hands away from her eyes where tears escaped her clenched eyes.

"It hurts!" she cried.

"Describe the pain," Snape ordered, his voice stern but gentle.

"Like someone was shoving their fingers into my eye," Aria answered. "God, the pain's spreading. My whole head hurts!"

"Open your eyes." Aria barely got her eyes to squint. She saw Snape reach into his robes and pull out a vial, which he handed her, and which she dutifully drank. Immediately her headache began to subside, and the sharp pain that had been left behind her eyes began to fade to a dull ache. Her magic, realizing that there was no more threat, automatically withdrew back into her, and the rattling of trinkets stopped.

"That is impressive magic you display, young one," Flamel murmured.

"I didn't mean to," Aria said. "I didn't even do anything." She blinked at Professor Snape, who was now looking more thoughtful than ever.

"Your magic acted on pure survival instinct," Flamel said. "It's not every day that one's magic reacts like yours did. Are you certain you felt like someone was poking your eyes?"

"Yes, sir."

Flamel hummed.

"I think that will be all from my students," Snape stated. "I wish to get Miss Bourne a stronger headache potion." Dumbledore nodded, waving them off. Aria let Harry and Ron lead the way out of the headmaster's office while Snape trailed behind them.

"What happened to me?" Aria demanded once they were a few corridors away from the office.

"I believe someone tried to perform Legilimency on you," Snape answered.

"In English, please, Professor," Harry said.

"Legilimency is the art of being able to read someone's mind," Snape explained. "It's counter art is Occlumency, the ability to shield your mind from a Legilimens. The headmaster and Flamel are both rumored to be Legilimens; but one doesn't usually go about boasting about being able to perform Legilimency or Occlumency."

"Why not?" Ron asked.

"Because, Mr. Weasley, those two skills are best used when no one else realizes that you can perform them. During the war, the Dark Lord used Legilimency to drive people mad. A good or accomplished Occlumens will be able to erect mental shields and walls to prevent access to their memories. A master will be able to feed false memories to the Legilimens. If someone does not realize you are skilled at Occlumens, then they will wear themselves out trying to break into your mind, or be fooled. And, if you are a Legilimens, then why tell people that you can discover their secrets when you can just use their secrets later to your advantage?"

"Can you tell us more?" Harry asked.

"As much as the topic is of interest, I have classes to teach, and you have classes to attend. So I suggest running to the dormitory and gathering your things as the first classes start in ten minutes."

The three ran back to the Slytherin dormitory. Aria scooped the book she needed into her bag, pausing a moment to stare at her trunk. After a minute she flipped open the lid, pulling out the Philosopher's Stone.

She didn't need it. Dumbledore didn't need it. Flamel really didn't need it, but it wasn't hers to keep and, with Dumbledore still trying to find it, it might be best to try and return it to its rightful owner. Shoving the stone to the bottom of her bag, she hurried to join Harry and Ron in the common room before they journeyed back up into the main part of the castle.

"Who do you think was trying to break into your head?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Aria said. "I was sort of blinded by the pain, so I didn't see anyone wave their wands or anything."

"I didn't see anyone wave their wands," Harry told her. "Maybe this is advanced magic that doesn't need a wand or a spell?"

"Voiceless and wandless magic?" Ron questioned. "You'd have to be very powerful to do both at the same time. Mum and dad can do some voiceless magic, but only with their wands. Bill showed me the few spells he can do wandlessly, but it's simply first year stuff and he needed to actually say the spell."

"So it could've been either," Aria decided. "I mean, we all know Dumbledore's one of the most powerful wizards, but I be Flamel is just as powerful."

"Mr. Flamel seemed genuinely worried about you," Harry said. "I thought Dumbledore just looked surprised."

"I would be too of someone just started yelling in my office," Ron commented. "Whoever did it, they now know that Aria's conveniently larger than normal magical core will protect her. That'll come in handy if anyone ever tries to off you, Aria."

"Should I be worried?" Aria questioned. They entered the entrance hall and turned to head up the staircase to the next floor when Aria glanced out the window to see Flamel already heading back towards the school gates.

"You guys go on to class," she told them, turning around and running for the front doors.

"What are we suppose to tell the professor?" Ron cried.

"Think of something!" Aria called back. She jumped off the steps and ran down the path after the ancient alchemist.

"Mr. Flamel! Mr. Flamel!" she shouted. "Wait!" The man paused, slowly spinning back around to wait for her. She skidded to a halt in front of him, taking a moment to catch her breath and dig through her now jostled bag for the stone.

"This belongs to you." She held out the crimson stone which shone redder and more beautiful in the morning sun than it had in the infirmary light. Flamel's eyebrows rose to an alarming height as he reached out, taking the stone from Aria, and turning it over several times in his hand.

"You had it all this time?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Why not inform your headmaster?"

"Well . . . he's the reason we got into this mess in the first place. Why'd I give it back to him?" Aria answered with a shrug. Probably best not to mention Harry's wary intuition of the headmaster. Flamel and Dumbledore were still friends after all.

"Why not keep it?" Flamel asked. "You could have sold it and been rich beyond belief."

"Really? I probably would have gotten underpaid," Aria said. How much would that stone have been worth? "It didn't actually cross my mind, sir. I thought about keeping it, but the person I would have given it to, if I knew how to use it, is already dead. So what would be the point of keeping it? Dad says he'd rather live a short but full life anyway, and I don't know if the stone would work for him."

"Why not?"

"He's Muggle, sir."

"I see. Well, I actually don't know if the stone would work on Muggles. In my six hundred years of life, my wife and I have had very few Muggle friends. Most of them died out in our first century. Magic folk have longer lives anyway." Flamel slipped the stone into an inner pocket of his robe.

"You best be off," he murmured. "Your class is probably started. I thank you for returning my stone to me."

"It's no problem, sir. Do you plan to use it?"

"No, child. My wife and I have been around far too long as it is. Immortality is not as wonderful as the tales will make it out to be. Again, I thank you for the returning of my property." He bowed to her and started back on his journey to the school gates. Aria started back towards the school, stopping just shy of the front steps when she saw Dumbledore standing at the doors.

"Good morning, Headmaster," she greeted, hoping her voice wasn't shaking in surprise. "Lovely morning." She walked by him and started up the stairs. Dumbledore did not call after her, but as she reached the hallway she wanted, she managed to peek over the railing as she continued on her way, and noted how the headmaster's gaze remained on her until she couldn't see him anymore.

Unease settled in the pit of Aria's stomach. Had the headmaster seen her give the stone over? Or had he just seen her talk to Flamel? Either way, she was starting to understand more fully, Harry's wary intuition about the white haired, horrendous robe-wearing, harmless looking old man.

She entered the Transfiguration classroom only to be met with a stern frown from Professor McGonagall.

"Care to explain why you're late, Miss Bourne?" McGonagall demanded.

"I was returning the Philosopher's Stone to Nicholas Flamel," Aria answered. "He was heading towards the front gates and I wanted to catch him. I didn't think sending something like the Philosopher's Stone through the mail would be smart."

Everyone stared at her. Several students were even slack jawed.

"You returned the Philosopher's Stone to Nicholas Flamel?" McGonagall repeated.

"Yes, ma'am."

"You had it all this time?"

"Yes, ma'am, I did."

"And you didn't use it?"

"No, ma'am. I really don't have a need for it."

"And why, Miss Bourne, did you not keep it to sell or use to some other advantage?"

Aria frowned. Was this a test of some sort? Professor McGonagall did not ask questions she did not want answers to.

"It's like I said, Professor," Aria finally replied. "I don't have a need for the stone. And while the money would be nice . . . it wasn't my stone to sell."

She slid into her seat.

Professor McGonagall stared at her for a moment.

"Grown men would not be as honest," McGonagall murmured. "I think that, for your honesty in returning the Philosopher's Stone to its creator; for keeping it safe and not using it irresponsibly; and for not seeking to further glorify yourself through the selling or use of the stone, two hundred points will be awarded to you. As I said, grown men would not be as honest as you, and you are only an eleven year old child."

The Gryffindors and Slytherins gasped. Several Gryffindor first years looked betrayed, mainly Seamus Finnegan and Lavender Brown who were easily the most popular of the first year Gryffindors.

For a moment Aria wasn't sure she heard her professor correctly, but after Harry nudged her sharply, she managed to stutter out a thank you. Professor McGonagall hummed and peered over her glasses at Aria.

"Don't be late to my class again, Miss Bourne," she said. "Or I'll be forced to take points."


	16. Going Home

It was with great cheer that the Slytherins packed up to go home for the summer. With Aria's unprecedented gift from the Head of Gryffindor, and many well-behaved Slytherin students, and with the Weasley twins getting in trouble for several end of the school year pranks, the House of Slytherin managed to keep the House Cup for a seventh year in a row.

Much to the grumbling of the other three houses.

"If the Gryffindors would just keep your brothers in check, they would have won," Theo told Ron as they ate their breakfast the morning they were to leave for their homes. "If they're to be mad at anyone, it should be your brothers."

"Slytherins are scapegoats anyway," Ron answered.

Aria slathered a piece of toast with butter and jam before setting it on Harry's plate. He jerked out of his thoughts, staring in shock at the toast like he didn't recognize what it was.

"Eat up," Aria said. "You feeling all right? You haven't been eating well these past few days."

"Probably a bug," Harry answered.

"Want to run to Madam Pomfrey?"

"No." Harry supported his chin on one hand while he picked up the toast and nibbled on it. Aria watched him closely. He loved strawberry jam and she'd spread it liberally. But he hardly noticed!

"What are the plans for the summer?" Daphne asked. "I'm going to ask if I can have some of you over."

"I'm free all summer," Pansy stated.

"I wasn't talking about you," Daphne replied, glancing at Aria.

"You'd rather have her over and not me?" Pansy cried. "But we've known each other since we were babies!"

"Unfortunately," Daphne deadpanned. Pansy scowled and turned back to her porridge. Aria and Daphne shared an eye roll.

"Maybe you and I can get together to play chess," Theo said, continuing his conversation with Ron. "Though I don't know how our fathers would feel about it."

"Yeah," Ron muttered. "We'd have to do some real convincing."

"Well, if you'd just get your grandfather to pay the registration fee for the Chess Guild of the United Kingdom, we could meet at one of their match houses."

Ron sighed. "I know. But I really want to win a spot there, not just hand over one hundred galleons. One hundred galleons!"

"They have an entry match this summer," Theo said. "I was reading about it. It's for all ages and the registration fee is only ten galleons. Would you put aside your pride and ask your grandfather to pay for that?"

Ron sniffed, a little miffed at Theo. "Maybe."

"I think I'll try to find odd jobs around the neighborhood," Aria told Daphne. "Maybe earn some pocket cash. It'd be cool to come over to your house. I don't think you'd like mine very much. It'd a bit old and needs some renovation."

"That's because you're poorer than Weasley," Draco said.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Blaise snapped. Crabbe and Goyle glowered at the dark skinned boy who merely scowled at them, forcing the two lumps to turn away and continue stuffing their faces.

"What about you, Harry?" Daphne asked.

"Same as Aria," Harry muttered, cracking a smile. "Odd jobs around the neighborhood." He set his half eaten toast down.

"Don't forget to write," Aria said.

"I'll try," Harry answered. "But my family isn't a huge fan of owls."

"Well then give your address and I'll send it Muggle post," Aria suggested. "Here." She pulled out a notebook from her shoulder bag and a quill. "Write."

Harry scribbled his address.

"Should I give you mine?" Aria asked.

"No. I'll get it off the envelope."

"If you're sure?" Aria and Harry met gazes.

"Actually . . . ." Harry lowered his voice, "you said Professor Snape lives near you?"

"Yeah."

"I'll take your address then."

"Okay." What was going on with Harry? Regardless, Aria tore off a bit of paper from her notebook and wrote out her address, handing it to Harry who pocketed it. She noticed he was wearing baggy pants that were held up by a belt pulled it it's tightest setting. In fact, his clothing today were very baggy, much like what he had been wearing when she and he had first met at Diagon Alley. Had he lost weight or was he just wearing really large clothes?

"Students!" Headmaster Dumbledore called from the Head Table. "I wish you all a wonderful summer holiday and I cannot wait for you all to return next year. Except you seventh years." There was some laughter from the older students.

"But it's time now for you all to be leaving for Hogsmeade," Dumbledore continued. "The carriages await outside."

Aria hurried to wrap several pieces of bacon and toast in napkins, stuffing the food in her bag, and biting into another piece of toast while she slipped her bag over her head onto her shoulders. It was a long ride home and she wasn't going to go hungry!

She, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Daphne managed to snag a carriage together. They would have squeezed Theo and Blaise on with them, but the carriage seemed to realize that it was full and began moving on its own.

"We'll save you seats on the train!" Daphne shouted as Theo and Blaise went to find another carriage.

The eight of them squished together in a compartment on the train and, after one run in with Draco and Pansy and their two goons, were left in peace for the rest of the ride. Daphne chatted about asking her parents for permission to invite Aria and Hermione over, which Aria was excited about, because Daphne and Hermione were civil to each other but not overly friendly.

Aria and Hermione traded Muggle addresses (just in case) and Theo and Ron spent most of the ride playing a single game of chess which Blaise had fun trying to destroy with horrible advice to Theo. Neville and Harry read for most of the trip.

The Hogwarts Express pulled into King's Cross in the early evening. Aria and her friends managed to get their baggage off the train without much incident, and then began the flurry of "Mum!" and "Dad!" from those whose parents could actually get onto the platform.

Which followed with a flurry of hurried introductions.

"I want Aria and Hermione to come over this summer," Daphne said to her parents once she'd introduced them, along with Harry and Ron.

"Really?" Mrs. Greengrass questioned.

"Yes, really," Daphne answered. Her little sister, Astoria, sniffed and turned away from Daphne with a look of boredom. Mr. Greengrass cast an uneasy glance at his wife and younger daughter before smiling at Aria and Hermione.

"We'll see," he said. "We have some plans already for the summer with the Parkinsons."

"I'll be at your funeral," Aria assured Daphne.

"Thanks," Daphne muttered.

Theo left without a word. Aria saw a man grab Theo's luggage and shrink it before grabbing Theo's shoulder, disappearing with him out of thin air.

"Apparating," Ron told Aria. "You need a lisence."

"Why didn't Theo introduce us?" Aria asked.

"I reckon it's because his dad's a well known Blood Purist, like Draco's grandfather and father," Ron answered. "I'm actually surprised he managed to remain friends with us throughout the year."

"Well, he's closer to Blaise and Daphne," Aria said. "If he played his cards right, and if no one else mentioned anything to his dad, then he could get away with hanging out with me and you and Harry Potter."

The Weasley family greeted them all with wide smiles and hugs.

"I'm so glad you're all doing well," Mrs. Weasley said. "I want you to right to Ronnie during the summer, because goodness knows he'll do nothing else but Quidditch otherwise."

"Mum!" Ron's ears turned red at his nickname.

The Weasleys followed Hermione, Harry, and Aria onto the Muggle platform of King's Cross to meet their families. To Aria's delight her dad was waiting with her, talking with a nice looking couple. She discovered these were Hermione's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

In the middle of introductions and red faced walrus of a man burst through the group.

"There you are!" he snapped at Harry, the thick mustache over his lip turning downwards like his mouth. "Stop chit chatting. We've got places to be!" He spun around and marched off towards a woman with stringy blonde hair and a neck like a horse. With her was a fat boy with a mop of slicked down blonde hair, his eyes focused on a gameboy.

"That'd be my uncle," Harry muttered.

"No way!" Aria cried. "Hope he doesn't have a heart attack while driving."

"Aria!" Kenneth snapped. "That's rude."

Harry waved good-bye and lugged his trunk and Hedwig after his family. The four disappeared into the crowd of commuters. Kenneth slung an arm around Aria and grabbed her trunk.

"Come on," he said. "We've another train to catch. You can tell me all about school on the way home."

* * *

 **The End.**

 **The sequel is now posted. The title is: _The Muggleborn Slytherin: Of Monsters and Men_**


End file.
